Bleach Drabbles
by peroxidepest17
Summary: My collection of Bleach drabbles. Various characters, themes, and situations. Pairings include yaoi, het, gen, etc. See headings on each individual piece for more specific information.
1. Contagion

**1.**

**Title: **Contagion  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing: **HisagixAyasekawa  
**Word Count: **190  
**Warning/s: **Incoherent fluff ahead. No spoilers, really.  
**Summary: **There has to be something wrong with Shuuhei.  
**Dedication:** bakabakashi, for drawing me this pairing, because I'm a fanart whore and I owe her so much for catering to my fangirlishness. Thanks!  
**A/N: **Decided that I'll take a study break every half hour and write one of these, just so my brain doesn't turn into mush.

* * *

Shuuhei thinks that there's something sick about him that makes him do these sorts of things to himself, because really, if he were perfectly normal, he would never submit to this sort of treatment willingly.

He's a vice-captain class shinigami after all, and who is this impertinent fifth-chair with the gall to order him around like he owns all of Soul Society and everyone in it?

"I told you, Yumichika…_no._"

He says it with confidence, because he is a vice-captain class shinigami. He has power, influence, and authority. Those of lower rank must listen to and obey him.

"Fine. No sex for a week. Humph."

"…okay, let's go."

"Yay!"

And then Ayasekawa is clutching his arm and dragging him off with his stupid little picnic basket in tow, and Shuuhei thinks that there _has _to be something wrong with him, because even though he's a vice-captain class shinigami, he lets his authority slip in situations like these and finds himself submitting to all sorts of ridiculous treatment as a result.

Halfway to their destination, he pauses to kiss Yumichika and hopes whatever it is that's wrong with him is contagious.

**END **


	2. Mismatched

**2.**

**Title: **Mismatched  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Pairing: **AizenxGin  
**Word Count: **416  
**Warning/s: **A little… suggestive; some spoilers for the special chapter of Vol 15 (I think it was?).  
**Summary: **No one understands Aizen and Gin's attachment.  
**Dedication:** JaB, because she's making me draw porn and I'm getting into the mood for it very slowly with things like this.  
**A/N: **Yay, study break!

* * *

They aren't in love, even if by definition, they could be called lovers. And they definitely aren't really friends, either.

It's hard to explain why they are the way they are because one has to actually experience it to really understand it.

There's a lot of secrets, a lot of hidden agendas that go on between the two of them, even when they're fucking, and maybe that's part of the appeal in the end anyway.

Ichimaru Gin, in the end, is absolutely faithful to Aizen Sousuke, and as to why, it can't really be determined. Maybe it's the thrill of having a worthy enemy so close by. There's a danger there in Aizen's bed, and a familiarity as well, and those things together make their attachment to one another as messy as the bloody sheets they inevitably leave behind each time they're together.

The rest of the third division can't quite figure it out, and most of them, all of them, are too busy cowering in their barracks as the sounds of slamming bodies and breaking glass and rattling doors echo throughout their compound to care. They can't figure out what their captain and vice-captain find in one another… gentle-seeming Aizen-taichou and dangerous-feeling Ichimaru-fukutaichou. No parts of those two men fit together in any neat fashion that the third division can imagine, and some of them think that perhaps those crashes and those cries they sometimes hear late at night are a result of two puzzle pieces that don't belong together being shoved forcibly against one another.

It scares them all, but all they can really be is relieved that it isn't one of _them_ in there instead.

They don't get it, they don't speak of it, they ignore it out of fear of what voicing their concerns might entail.

They do their level best not to understand any of it.

But it's not important that they understand anyway, so long as it doesn't directly involve them, and Gin likes seeing them cower from him when he passes by in the hallway on his way back to his vice-captain's quarters the next morning, covered in blood that may or may not be his, bruises everywhere. They bow and scurry off, and he can smell the fear rolling off of their backs as they run. He takes it all in with great joy, smiling that eerie smile of his before he licks his fingers clean and thinks that the taste that's been left behind is absolutely heavenly.

**END**


	3. Arm of the Giant

**3.**

**Title: **Arm of the Giant  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing: **ChadxIshida (lightly)  
**Word Count: **166  
**Warning/s: **Lots of spoilers…mostly for the first… ah… 14-ish volumes of the manga?  
**Summary: **The source of Chad's strength.  
**Dedication:** Ivan, because I think he has a quiet strength that's starting to come out on its own too.  
**A/N: **God these study breaks are heavenly.

* * *

He saw Ishida sitting alone one day, sad, furtive glances thrown down at his hand, the one stripped of all power save for the one to sew.

It made him look at his own hand, the right hand that he'd promised to Ichigo and Ichigo alone a long time ago.

It's his strong arm, the place where Kurosaki found Chad's true power. It is the one that he has since then helped to strengthen into a faithful weapon, a loyal protector.

Sado's right arm belongs to Kurosaki, because that was what he promised. It's his stronger arm, his fighting arm.

But that doesn't mean his left is weak either.

It doesn't mean that his left can't become stronger, too.

Because Sado has found that with the right incentive, with something or someone precious to protect, he becomes stronger than he was.

So that day he approached sad, furtive Ishida, quietly taking the other boy's powerless hand with his own left one.

And he made another promise.

**END**


	4. Father Knows Best

**4.**

**Title: **Father Knows Best  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru  
**Word Count: **276  
**Warning/s: **Um, kiddie violence? No spoilers, really.  
**Summary: **Kenpachi teaches Yachiru a lesson.  
**Dedication: **Kelly, because I could so see her as this type of child. Heh.  
**A/N: **Because violence and youth are beautiful in Bleach.

* * *

Because everyone referred to Zaraki as Yachiru's "daddy," he supposed it was his job to correct her bad habits.

"Ne…what's the matter, Ken-chan?"

"Oi…Yachiru. I heard you've been makin' a habit out of chewin' on Ikkaku's head."

"Mmm hmm! It's so bald and shiny!"

Kenpachi eyed her, coloring with her crayons on the floor, and not just outside the lines, but outside the _paper_ too.

He sighed. "It really bugs him, ya know?"

"Yup!"

He crossed his arms. "You're not teethin' again or anything are ya?" He remembered that event a few years ago, and how not-pretty it had been with her chewing through people's arms until he'd gotten her drunk enough to put her to bed.

"Hmmm, teething? Nope! Don't think so!"

"Well, I just wanted to say… if you're teethin' again you probably don't wanna chew on Madarame's head for_ too_ long, cuz you'd chew through it and yeah, it'd be kinda funny, but it'd also be kinda gross, if you remember what happened last time," he started, absently watching her draw what looked like the ones she called 'Freaky Brows' and 'Tattoo-face' running through a field of dead bodies hand-in-hand.

"Don't worry, Ken-chan! I have all my old teeth still, see? Aaaah!"

"Well, good then."

"Does that mean I can keep playing with baldie-head?"

"Yeah, I guess it's okay then."

"Okay!"

He frowned to himself, having momentarily forgotten what the original purpose of his life's lesson to the little one had actually been. "Oi…Yachiru…"

"Hmmm?"

"Next time he whines like he did just now, _really_ bite the idiot, okay?"

"Okay!"

He hadn't raised her to do a half-assed job of things, after all.

**END **


	5. Life’s Little Mysteries

**5.**

**Title: **Life's Little Mysteries  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing: **IchigoxIshida (ish), IchigoxChad (ish)  
**Word Count: **206  
**Warning/s: **Probably OOC. I'm too cracked out from studying to really put much effort forth…  
**Summary: **Everyone loves Ichigo…no one knows why.  
**Dedication:** Dave, because he's sort of the same way. XD  
**A/N: ** Doo be doobedoo… So not studying like I should be…

* * *

He thinks Ichigo is the kind of person that everyone inexplicably falls a little bit in love with, though no one can quite pinpoint why. 

It's exactly like the heroes of all the shounen manga Kurosaki reads. He's got _something_, no one's sure what, that just draws people to him, even though he's rude, a little bit arrogant, sort of dense, and has oddly colored hair.

And like most of the people around him, Ishida can't figure out what it is exactly, that makes him like Ichigo.

He asks Sado about it one day, and the other boy blinks at him, though Ishida doesn't miss the small responding blush on his face that says Yasutora knows exactly what Ishida is going through.

Trying to figure out why they are as they are is the ultimate puzzle.

They sit there for a while longer, looking thoughtful, until Ichigo joins them for lunch, greeting them gruffly before he plops down across from the Quincy and starts digging through his bento like some wild animal foraging for scraps.

His hair is a mess, his collar is crooked, and he chews noisily.

Chad and Ishida share a look and silently, mutually agree that some things are better left a mystery.

**END**


	6. Partiality

**6.**

**Title: **Partiality  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou (sort of), Kuukaku's in there too  
**Word Count: **418  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers, or at least, big ones.  
**Summary: **Ganjyu really hates shinigami.  
**Dedication:** Yoshi and Tiff because they made really cute GanjyuxHanatarou pictures.  
**A/N: **Please suspend all disbelief before proceeding…

* * *

"I thought you hated all shinigami?"

Honestly, his sister could be such a bitch sometimes. Sure, he'd said that, and he'd _meant _it too, but Hanatarou didn't really count as a shinigami, because really, he was the kind of shinigami that the _real_ shinigami hated anyway, so it was okay to hang out with him.

But seriously, Kuukaku could really be a pain in the ass, as much as he loved her.

Hanatarou stood by nervously and rubbed the back of his head, looking like he was about to pass out at any moment. "Ganjyu-san really does hate shinigami," he told the older Shiba sibling guilelessly.

Ganjyu was a little afraid of the look in his sister's eye when she heard the shinigami's voice, because it was a look that made him think that maybe she wanted to see how many fingers it would take to tip little Hanatarou over and really, Kuukaku had no qualms about kicking puppies or pulling wings off of butterflies because she was scary like that.

Cautiously, he edged himself slightly between the fireworks master and the little shinigami before he started to explain the situation. "Well ya see, sis, the little runt's never been outside like this, not really, and I figure that the shinigami should come out and see Rukongai for real, ya see? So I took him back with me so he could see it."

"That so?"

"It's like I said."

And then Kuukaku smirked at him and blew the smoke from her pipe into his face and laughed. "Yeah?"

He coughed and glared at her. "It's like I said, isn't it?"

She winked at him before reaching out for Hanatarou anyway, and Ganjyu moved to stop her except then she was smiling and patting the little runt on the head and telling him to come eat dinner with them because he looked like death.

Ganjyu gaped at her, but she ignored it, throwing him a knowing look over her shoulder before telling him to drag his runt inside so they could hurry up and eat.

He hastily agreed and before he knew what he was doing, had Hanatarou slung over his back just like old times, jogging to catch up to his neesan.

Over dinner, Kuukaku made small talk with a polite Hanatarou and kept insinuating that it looked like Ganjyu liked shinigami after all.

Hanatarou, in Ganjyu's defense, kept denying it, insisting that Ganjyu hated shinigami until Ganjyu had to tell him to just shut the hell up.

**END**


	7. Unmentionable, Unthinkable

**7.**

**Title:** Unmentionable, Unthinkable  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **infinitesimal IchigoxRukia, Keigo gets beat on the side.  
**Word Count: **278  
**Warning/s: **Some perversion, and weird connections on Ichigo's part.  
**Summary: **Ichigo thinks Keigo is disgusting.  
**Dedication:** Jenkat, just cause. So yeah.  
**A/N: **I lose steam as the evening drags on. Oh Japanese final, how you will destroy me tomorrow.

* * *

Keigo was disgusting. 

And Ichigo's fist hurt from repeatedly trying to beat it into the other boy that he was disgusting, and no matter how anyone looked at it, trying to peek at Rukia's panties were ostensibly, trying to peek at his_ little__sister's_ panties.

There was something really, really wrong about that.

Really, Keigo was a stupid pervert, because it was doubly disturbing that he'd been trying to get a better angle to see up Rukia's skirt while she was wearing Yuzu's clothes, and eeuw, eeuw, eeuw, Ichigo didn't want to think about connecting those dots because eeuw.

Okay, when he let himself think calmly about it, Rukia, he could understand. Maybe a little, especially since Keigo was a notorious pervert and that was so his sort of thing. But at the same time, even though admittedly, Keigo didn't _know _it, it was like he was also trying to take a look at Ichigo's_ little_ _sister_.

His sweet, eleven-year-old little sister.

Groaning, Kurosaki tried to block out the disturbing images by continuing to knuckle Asano's temples fiercely between his fists because it was his duty as a big brother on behalf of Yuzu's honor and also because if he let the big idiot continue, Rukia would do far worse to him if she ever caught Keigo in the act of trying to glance at her unmentionables.

But even when he was done, all the idiot-beating had served to do was make his knuckles hurt.

He still felt mildly nauseous.

Resolved despite his earlier, vehement desire to stay far, far away from that sort of thing, Ichigo decided that maybe it was time to take Rukia lingerie shopping.

**END **


	8. Formal Reporting Made Easy

**8.**

**Title:** Formal Reporting Made Easy  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yamamoto, Kenpachi, Madarame  
**Word Count: **406  
**Warning/s: **OOC Craziness.  
**Summary: **The eleventh division has a style of reporting all its own.  
**Dedication:** Vinnie, cuz he's probably not studying either.  
**A/N: **As you can all probably tell, I've gone a little bit crazy.

* * *

For some reason, all of the reports that filtered in from the eleventh division looked like hastily scratched ransom notices. You know, the kind that came from gangs or drug dealers or terrorists. 

Yamamoto Genryuusai had confronted Zaraki about it, sarcastically stating that he might as well have his vice-captain write up all the necessary information if he was going to present his weekly reports in such a manner. He ceased being amused when, the next week, he'd gotten the eleventh division's mandatory report in blue and orange crayon, complete with a piece of artwork that was unmistakably Zaraki (in blue) ripping off a Hollow's head (in orange) with his bare hands. The caption read: "Ken-chan killz a Hollow dehd lots."

When he'd written a missive of complaint to the eleventh division about it in response, the only reply he'd gotten was a hastily, messily scrawled note (in red, possibly the blood of a victim), that read as follows:

_Dear old man,_

_Ya don't like Yachiru's pictures? Then don't make little kids write Hollow killing reports. Told ya mine were fine as they were. Che._

_Sign,_

_X_

_PS. Eleventh division currently outta ink. Better send some soon cuz the dead animal Yachiru brought back is runnin' outta blood._

Yamamoto-taichou hoped that that was just Zaraki's idea of a very tasteless joke.

When he got a complaint from the neighboring tenth division captain about the eleventh division throwing dead rabbit carcasses over the wall that separated their buildings, he quickly wrote out the requisition form for more ink and brushes to be sent immediately to the eleventh division headquarters.

The following week, he once again received the eleventh division's reports. Thankfully, none of them were written in the blood of innocent woodland creatures nor were they scrawled in children's crayons.

However, reading it off the naked back of Ikkaku Madarame made for a rather awkward atmosphere, as well as some rather impossible angles from which Yamamoto had to decipher the message.

_Dear old man,_

_Thanks for the ink. Yachiru ate all the paper. Sendin' Madarame instead. This week's report is below the pants. Heh, enjoy._

_Sign,_

_X_

"I've always wondered why Zaraki signs with an X," Yamamoto posed as regally as possible in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence as he tried to transcribe the words dotting Ikkaku's lower back.

"Dunno, sir. Think he likes pirates or something."

"Aa." Pause. "Um… please remove your pants."

"Yessir."

**END **


	9. Limit Break

**9.**

**Title:** Limit Break  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count: **219  
**Warning/s: **yaoi lives here  
**Summary: **Ukitake thinks this will kill him.   
**Dedication:** Ahahaha uhm… would Ann kill me if I dedicated this to her?  
**A/N: **Yes, because I so need to be doing this half an hour before my speaking final.

* * *

Ukitake's convinced that one day, Kyouraku is going to kill him.

Because Kyouraku Shunsui, despite his age, has the libido of an eighteen-year-old boy, and Ukitake's body has never been that strong, even back when they were younger.

Sometimes after they've finished and Shunsui is getting his five-minute break in-between, Ukitake brings up his concerns and asks the other man if he really wants to kill him with sex.

Kyouraku grins and pulls him closer, his beard tickling Jyuushriou's cheek, and murmurs that his sweet little Jyuu-chan just doesn't know the limits of his own body like Kyouraku knows it.

Then Ukitake gets indignant, because it's _his_ body and not Shunsui's, and how is it even possible that the other man could know it better than him?

But Shunsui just chuckles low in his throat before rolling on top of him again, kissing him deep enough that Ukitake is convinced his heart will stop if this keeps up.

And he notices that Kyouraku is already ready for another go, and he half groans, exasperated, when he feels those familiar fingers start to dance down his sides.

Except, to his horror, his groan of exasperation comes out as more of a breathy moan for more, and Kyouraku laughs, breath warm in his ear as he whispers, "See? Told ya so."

**END **


	10. Little Girls Are Made Of

**10.**

**Title:** Little Girls Are Made Of  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Aizen, Hinamori  
**Word Count:** 335  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for like, the whole Soul Society Arc as it currently is.   
**Summary: **Aizen thinks Hinamori is cute.  
**Dedication:** Joanne, because I'm evil.  
**A/N: **All right, off to get killed by my Japanese final! Yay!

* * *

His little vice-captain is very cute, one of the cutest little shinigami he's ever seen. She's sweet and friendly and so chock-full of innocence that he's surprised she knows which end of her zanpakutou is the one to fight with. 

She really is so cute, his little subordinate is, that he can't get over it sometimes.

Because little Momo-chan is still just a child, as strong as she is, and he loves children because they're sweet and innocent and so very easy to mold exactly how you want.

She's laughing now, running around in the field of flowers he's taken her to, cheeks flushed bright with youthful joy as she thanks her Aizen-taichou for bringing her here today, because it's absolutely beautiful.

He looks back at her serenely and tells her to enjoy it, because this is a rare treat for otherwise busy shinigami.

She tells him she will, and he watches her pick flowers and hum to herself, his sweet little vice-captain who is still really just a child.

He savors this moment as well, taking deep breaths of wonderful springtime air, listening to her melodic, ambling tune, and watching the pretty picture she makes sitting there in a field of daisies all by herself.

He savors the moment and is glad that this child-death god is his and his alone, because when they are young, you can make them into exactly what you want them to be.

A little while later, she brings him a crown of flowers that she's woven together for him, shy blush on those adorable little cheeks as she holds it out to him.

He smiles back at her warmly and puts it on his head, promising to wear it for the rest of the day.

She beams back cutely and runs off laughing again, leaving him there with a crown of daisies on his head and a rueful smile on his face.

And he thinks that when he kills her, it will really be the cutest thing ever.

**END **


	11. Boobs

**11.**

**Title:** Boobs  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Hitsugaya, Matsumoto  
**Word Count:** 321  
**Warning/s: **Yes, this is a drabble about boobs. Sort of. It's just kind of weird, even to me. --;; And major OOC.  
**Summary: **Toushirou's too young to know about these things, really.  
**Dedication:** JaB, because… "Desert Boobie!"  
**A/N: **My Japanese final ROCKED ME.

* * *

She didn't slap him the first time he asked, because for one thing, he's her commanding officer, and for another, he's still just a kid.

But she maybe should have slapped him after all, because now he thinks it's okay to just sort of bring up the topic even when they're in the middle of a public place.

"Oi…Matsumoto… are you _sure_ it's not harder to fight with those things attached to your chest?" he asks, rubbing his cheek.

She grits her teeth and battles the urge to cross her arms around herself as Hitsugaya looks speculatively at her breasts. "No sir, I'm quite sure it's fine."

He, looking bored like always, shrugs at her. "Whatever you say. Seems troublesome to me."

She shakes her head at him and hopes he reaches puberty soon if only for the fact that when that day comes, he'll have grown to a height that doesn't mean constantly getting hit in the face with her chest when they turn a corner and bump into each other. "Sorry again, for hitting you, sir," she apologizes for the third or fourth time, hoping that with that, the subject will change and they can get back to work.

Instead, he stands there, thoughtful for a moment. "Are you certain they don't…"

"I'm certain sir."

He thinks about it a little more regardless, and after a while says, "I suppose, Matsumoto, that after all the times those things have attacked me, with the right training, they could actually be considered a formidable weapon on the battlefield rather than a hindrance."

She gapes at him a little bit. If he wasn't so damn serious looking about all of it (and a kid), she thinks she would have slapped him.

"Let's get back to work, Matsumoto."

"Ah, yes sir."

He turns around and continues down the hallway, and she never sees the cheeky little smirk on his face as he does.

**END**


	12. Permission

**12.**

**Title:** Permission  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchigoxRukia,Byakuya  
**Word Count:** 512  
**Warning/s: **Kind of a rip off of my own "Proposition" piece, but eh, I thought it would be fun to throw Byakuya in the mix. Some spoilery-ness for the Soul Society arc. And OOC!  
**Summary: **Byakuya likes Ichigo. He can't help it.  
**Dedication:** Beck-senpai, for all her support over the past few days.  
**A/N: **Yes, I'm going to study. Just… later.

* * *

There's no way he won't allow them to get married, because really, he likes Kurosaki. 

And even if he were to oppose their union, the chances of his little sister listening to him are pretty much null anyway, if she is anything like her sister, who in the end, couldn't be persuaded to love Byakuya no matter how much he tried to make her.

So in the end, it is pretty much an inevitability that he'll have to welcome Kurosaki Ichigo into his home as a brother.

It's just that… no one has to know that yet.

Fighting back a knowing smile, Kuchiki Byakuya instead, scowls imperiously back at Kurosaki, who is seated on his knees across from the sixth division captain, squirming a little bit under his gaze and obviously struggling to not piss off the brother-in-law-to-be.

"What do you have to offer my sister? Why should she give up everything she has here in order to return to the mortal realm with _you_?"

"Ah well… I uh… graduated last week and I have a pretty nice apartment...and…" Kurosaki searches for something else to add to his list, obviously fighting his urge to glare back at Byakuya and remind the other man that he kicked his ass once, a couple of years back, and could easily do it again. He refrains because he's promised Rukia that he will behave today.

Byakuya rather thinks that Kurosaki's attempts at civility are painfully amusing, but hides it well. "You ask that she abandon the life she has here in order to follow you into such squalor? I cannot allow it."

"Hey! C'mon now, what if it's what she wants? Ever think of that?"

And Byakuya likes Kurosaki, he really does, because anyone who would oppose him this readily for the sake of his sister is always someone he can't hate in the end, no matter how uncouth that person might be.

"Do you really think that you can make her happy?"

"Yes! Well… I mean, I'll try, and if she's not she'd just tell me, wouldn't she? It's not like she'd put up with that sort of crap if she wasn't. Geez."

And then Byakuya can't hold the smile back anymore because really, these young people in love just lend themselves to that sort of reaction. Kurosaki stares back at him incredulously, like maybe Kuchiki-taichou has suddenly gone mad, and the expression on his face makes Byakuya laugh, an uncharacteristically full, deep chuckle. "All right then," he manages, eyes twinkling back at the man who he will call brother soon.

"What? Really?"

"Of course. She would have gone regardless of my blessing, you know."

"Well yeah, I know that, but I was kinda hoping it wouldn't come to that," Kurosaki admits, looking relieved. "I didn't want to have to kick your ass again, for making her sad."

This kind of fellow, Byakuya thinks, is this kind of fellow that he can't help but like a little bit.

"Well then, Kurosaki. As of now, I formally welcome you into the Kuchiki family."

"Ah, thanks. Wait… _what_?"

**END **


	13. Good Boy

**13.**

**Title:** Good Boy  
**Rating: ** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 625  
**Warning/s: **Why yes, this is vaguely pornographic. And a little bit fetishy too. JaB's fault. Alllll JaB's fault.  
**Summary: **Kira has some dangerous addictions.  
**Dedication:** Francis, because I'm STILL evil. XD  
**A/N: **Why yes, this is the first time I've written something like this. Be gentle.

* * *

Kira, in the time of his academy days, had been a model student. His teachers had loved him, his grades were top-notch, and he had had good friends he could always talk to.

All that hard work and diligence and good-behavior paid off in the end, because he was pre-accepted into the Gotei-13 just like Hisagi-senpai had been, and since then, he has been under Ichimaru-taichou's diligent tutelage.

He thinks it's a little bit ironic that even in the tumultuous, stressful time of his youth, it wasn't until he became a real, full-fledged shinigami that his addictions started building up, one by one. All his life he had been free of such things because he had a goal to reach. It was only once he was in the very place he always wanted to be that he found something to become addicted to.

And it's not exactly the healthy kind of addiction either, because his ribs hurt and there will be finger-shaped bruises on his throat tomorrow that will have to be covered up with _something_. He thinks it might be painful to walk in the morning as well, and he hopes that the cuts on his chest will have stopped bleeding so that he won't have to bandage them himself.

He's certain it's the most not-healthy addiction in the world, but he's too busy at the moment to compare it with any other types of addictions he knows of because his mind is fuzzy when Ichimaru-taichou touches him like that in certain places, when his captain cuts him with Shinsou and licks the blood from his back, when he bites down hard on his neck and then sucks on it with deceptive gentleness.

Kira thinks sex shouldn't be like this, at least from what he's heard about it, but this is the only kind of intimate touch he's ever felt, and he thinks that he's addicted to it, because the thought of his blood in Ichimaru-taichou's mouth makes him unbelievably hot inside, and it just doesn't seem right if he can walk straight in the morning anyway.

Gin calls him a good boy, purrs it against his skin before he tongues Kira's ear, and Kira shivers, hoping that as a reward, Ichimaru-taichou will be kind tonight and fuck him hard and fast so that the hurting will start to be inseparable from the pleasure just like he likes it.

And Gin obliges him, because Kira is his obedient vice-captain, his good, docile boy, and the captain's hands start squeezing tighter and tighter around Izuru's throat until the other shinigami chokes and sputters and comes so hard he can't hold himself up anymore.

And Gin smiles and follows his good little Kira, breathing sweetly against the blonde's skin, which begins to burn from the cuts and bruises a little more intensely each minute Kira's takes coming down from his orgasm. It makes him shiver there underneath his captain's outstretched body, and as tired as he is, he can't help but wanting to be hurt a little bit more before the night ends.

But then Gin's hand is in his hair and he's telling his subordinate to get some rest, because good vice-captains, obedient little boys like Kira, need to be up early to do their jobs. And then Ichimaru is on his feet, the sound of clothing being readjusted reaching Izuru's ears before Gin is gone from his room and he's left alone, bleeding and sticky and unable to move from where he's laid out on the floor.

He thinks that maybe sex shouldn't be like this, but this is the only kind he's ever known, and when it gets right down to it, he's so addicted that trying anything else would be futile anyway.

**END**


	14. Debauched

**14.**

**Title:** Debauched  
**Rating: ** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **RenjixByakuya  
**Word Count:** 549  
**Warning/s: **OOC, fluff, etc. etc.  
**Summary: **Renji would kick their asses, if he knew what the hell they were saying.  
**Dedication:** JaB, cuz she requested the pairing.  
**A/N: **See? I can still do stuff like this after #13. #13 was the fluke, I swear.

* * *

Renji knew the upper-classes liked to gossip, and he would have gotten pissed at them for it, because it was none of their business, except that he wasn't quite sure, exactly, what they were saying. He knew it had to do with he and Kuchiki-taichou, just because he knew their own names, if anything. 

But the whole "Kuchiki Byakuya's been debauched by Abarai Renji" rumor that was going around, he didn't quite get.

He'd asked Iba what exactly, 'debauched' meant, but maybe going to _his_ friends was a mistake because if _he_ didn't know it, _they_ weren't likely to either.

Iba said he thought it had something to do with alcohol.

But then again, Iba thought _everything_ had something to do with alcohol.

Ikkaku had said it probably had something to do with those hair things Kuchiki-taichou was always wearing, 'cause they were totally girly.

But Renji thought that maybe Ikkaku had hair-envy.

Eventually, he got so tired of hearing the same thing over and over again that he resolved to go see his captain about it personally, as embarrassing as it might be.

"Renji?" the sixth division captain looked up from his desk, where he was currently finishing a stack of paperwork.

"Uh…sorry to bother you, Kuchiki-taichou, but I uh…was wonderin'… you ah, you been hearin' those rumors lately? 'bout you'n me?"

"Rumors, fukutaichou?"

"Ah yeah… I was just curious if you ya know, know anything, or anything."

"What are they about?"

"Well, I don't know really, which is part of the reason I'm here, ya see. I was um…wonderin'…what exactly, does it mean when they say I uh… debauched you?"

Renji cringed when Byakuya's eyebrow jumped upwards. "Is that what this is about?"

"Yeah. So…uh… what's it mean?"

"Well, quite plainly, Renji, it means that you've compromised my virtue, possibly via lewd sexual activity."

"_What?" _The vice-captain's cheeks flushed pink. "I…I…I can't believe…"

"Yes, it is rather unbelievable, isn't it?" Byakuya posed.

"Well…I'll, I'm gonna… I'm gonna find out whoever it was that started that damn rumor. I'll find out right away, don't worry taichou. And I'll kill' em!" Renji declared, though still blushing profusely.

Byakuya smiled calmly and set his brush down, standing from his chair. "I started it, Renji."

The redhead blinked. "Wait…what?"

"I started it. Though admittedly, who got debauched by who was different when I did," Byakuya replied patiently, stepping out from behind his desk and advancing on the younger man coolly.

"T-taichou? You? But uh…why?" the vice-captain asked, backing up until he hit the door.

"Am I a liar, Renji?"

"Uh, no sir. Of course not, sir."

And then Byakuya was right up in Renji's face and Renji swallowed nervously, because the look in his captain's eye told him that it wasn't Kuchiki-taichou who was going to be the one whose virtue would be compromised.

"That's correct. I don't lie," the older man breathed, reaching out to take a strand of Renji's hair between his fingertips. "Thus, I feel that it is your duty, fukutaichou, to make all these silly rumors…"

"Disappear?" Renji squeaked.

Byakuya's smile turned purely predatory. "…true," he finished calmly, leaning forward and kissing his vice-captain.

That afternoon, Abarai Renji learned exactly what the meaning of "debauched" was.

Like he suspected, it had absolutely nothing to do with alcohol.

**END**


	15. Fix You Right Up

**15.**

**Title:** Fix You Right Up  
**Rating: ** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ganjyu, Ayasekawa (ish)  
**Word Count:** 233  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ganjyu's…siblings. Oh, and like, Chapter 160-something.  
**Summary: **Ganjyu can't help that he got the ugly gene out of the Shiba siblings.  
**Dedication:** Greg, cuz he asked for it. :P I was going to make it yaoi, but it's hard for these two, no matter what anyone else might say. :P  
**A/N: **Oh god, the 8am final slowly approaches and I'm still not done 'studying'. Yes.

* * *

"What? _You're_ related to Shiba-fukutaichou! Impossible!" Ayasekawa scoffed, eyes roaming over Ganjyu's face disapprovingly. "Shiba-san was strong and beautiful. You… you are ugly!"

Ganjyu snarled. "This is another reason why I hate the shinigami! Freakin'… just 'cuz I don't look like aniki doesn't mean anything!"

Ayasekawa rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, looking disdainfully at the larger man. "It might mean that your mother was…"

"Hey, watch it. Wanna die?"

Yumichika scoffed. "I've defeated a vice-captain class shinigami. You think I fear you, you gigantic ox?"

"OX? I'll kill you, I swear it!"

Ayasekawa frowned. "You can't be related to Shiba-san. You're such an uncouth…beast. Always threatening physical violence when someone else's stunning wit outshines your sad, pathetic one."

"I'm telling you, you frilly idiot, I'm Shiba Kaein's handsome younger brother!"

Ayasekawa sniffed. "Prove it."

"How the hell am I supposed to do _that_?"

Yumichika looked back speculatively. "Hmmm… I have an idea. Come with me."

"Why should I?"

"If you're related to Shiba-fukutaichou, there _has_ to be _something_ beautiful about you _somewhere._ You want to prove you're related, don't you?"

"Well…yeah… I guess."

"Then come on. I've got the perfect idea!"

Reluctantly, Ganjyu let the pretty-boy take his arm and start dragging him towards the 11th division headquarters. However, when he saw Yumichika's wicked smile…

"Wait…what the hell are you planning, you fruitcake!"

Yumichika sparkled back at him, brilliantly. "Makeover!"

"WHAT?"

**END**


	16. One Step Ahead

**16.**

**Title:** One Step Ahead  
**Rating: ** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Urahara, Aizen, Yoruichi  
**Word Count:** 327  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers through chapter 178-ish?  
**Summary: **Urahara the outcast, the heretic, the mad-scientist.  
**Dedication:** Dave, for telling me to study even though he knew it was futile. Bwahahahaha!  
**A/N: **I've decided that I'm resigned to my fate for tomorrow. Yay learned helplessness!

* * *

There was always something about Aizen Sousuke that threw off Urahara Kisuke's senses. Kind, quiet, thoughtful Aizen-taichou inexplicably, made the twelfth division captain instantly wary, and though he didn't know why, Urahara always trusted his instincts. 

When he talked to others about it they scowled at him or laughed at him or both, and talked behind his back about that creepy Urahara-taichou, the heretic, the mad-scientist, the crazy paranoid messiah who was trying to draw attention away from his own strangeness and onto venerable Aizen-taichou, who was the embodiment of everything Urahara was not, who followed the rules and respected authority, and who was only kind and honest with everyone. Urahara asked them if they didn't find Aizen-taichou's smile disconcerting, or his demeanor calculating, and they scoffed at him and told him that _he_ was the only one like that here.

Urahara didn't mind any of that talk, really, because he was convinced a lot of people that weren't him were stupid, and so he sat by himself in his twelfth division headquarters and tinkered with his experiments and once in a while, went to visit Yoruichi, who was probably the only other person who agreed with him about Aizen being off-putting, even to social outcasts like them.

And he trusted Yoruichi's instincts almost as much as he trusted his own, so he was always careful around Aizen-taichou and that eerily smiling vice-captain of his, even though they both always seemed to want to be overly friendly with him for some strange reason.

Maybe no one but Yoruichi believed him, but Urahara had always thought there was something not quite right about Aizen-taichou.

So when he heard the news from Soul Society, years and years after he'd gone, all he could really do was smirk and congratulate himself on being smarter than all of the other shinigami in the Gotei-13.

The next day he chanced to deliver a missive to Yamamoto-taichou that read only, _"Told you so." _

**END**


	17. Stable Boy

**17.**

**Title:** Stable Boy  
**Rating: ** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Hanatarou+Rukia (one-sided), sort-of IchigoxRukia  
**Word Count:** 529  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the beginning of the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary: **Hanatarou isn't anything grand.  
**Dedication:** Tiff, who was a way cute Hanatarou at Fanime.  
**A/N: **Yes, I got rocked by my English final. Thus I am a bit melancholy. --;;

* * *

She was a princess in a tower; all dressed in mourning black and unblemished white and beautiful in her own sad way.

He was sad a lot of the time too, on her behalf, because he would save her if he could, but he couldn't because she was a princess and by law, it had to be a prince who saved her.

And Hanatarou didn't think he was a prince, or even a squire, but just the stable-boy who admired the princess and dreamed that though he couldn't save her, he could at least take care of her while they both waited for her prince to arrive.

And so he brought her food every day and tried to smile for her, because it broke his heart to see his princess sad.

He cleaned her cell and talked aimlessly and listened to her stories about a prince from a far away, wonderful land that she'd had to leave behind because her kingdom demanded it.

As the days passed, Hanatarou wanted more and more, to try and be a prince for her, to try and save what he could of her, because as the days went by, she grew sadder and sadder. And the stories about her prince, the only things that could bring any life into her eyes at all, were slowly dwindling, because her time with him had been short, too short to build up enough memories to keep her alive in this place for more than a little while.

Soon, she ran out of stories, and all that was left was the longing in her eyes to make more of them, to make more memories with that heroic prince from a far away land that she couldn't stay in because here in her kingdom, that sort of thing was forbidden.

And Hanatarou wishes he could be a prince who could give her memories that made her want to live, that made her eyes light up and her sad lips curl into a fond smile, but he knows he's not that type of hero, that he's not a prince or even a squire but just the lowly stable-boy.

All he can do is keep trying to take care of her as the days go by, and hope that her prince comes to save his princess soon, because it's only a real prince that can save Rukia not just from death, but from her own sadness as well.

So on the day that the invader alerts start to ring loud and clear all throughout Soul Society, Hanatarou rushes to Rukia's cell because he hopes to see her eyes light up at the news that her prince has come.

When he gets there, she's gone.

He can't save her, as much as he wants to, because that's the prince's job. And he's definitely not a prince, or even a squire, but just the stable boy who wants to take care of a princess. But even knowing that, when he discovers that she's been taken from her cell he sets out to find her anyway.

He knows he can't save her.

But until her prince comes, Hanatarou will take care of her.

**END **


	18. Doting Older Brother

**18. **

**Title:** Doting Older Brother  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Ukitake, Byakuya  
**Word Count:** 555  
**Warning/s:** Spoilers for… uh… parts of Soul Society arc. Don't remember exactly where.  
**Summary:** Byakuya blames Ukitake.  
**Dedication:** Christine. Do well on your finals!  
**A/N:** So this is kind of my response as to why Byakuya was such an asshole to Ukitake that one time at the tower, because the first time I read it I was like, "oh, what a bitch", but I guess I kind of understand it now. Anyway…yes.

* * *

Kuchiki Byakuya has never liked Ukitake Jyuushirou. 

Ukitake knows, because there's a certain level of coldness beyond the norm that envelops the room whenever he looks at Kuchiki-taichou, and that those icy comments the other man directs at him are meant to strike and cut invisibly, much like the sixth division captain's special attack.

And Ukitake understands it, because despite that frozen exterior, Byakuya is a doting older brother, and it is all Ukitake's fault, as her captain, that Byakuya's precious little sister was hurt so very badly.

And Byakuya will never stop blaming Ukitake for Shiba Kaien's death, and the trauma that haunted Rukia for years and years after that.

Byakuya never personally knew Kaien as well as Rukia. He never knew the other man beyond the fact that he was the one that his little sister idolized, the one who she would always talk about as the person she wanted to become just like.

And Byakuya didn't mind that it wasn't him who she idolized, because Rukia was happy, and he is, despite his icy exterior, a doting older brother in the end.

So when Rukia returned to the Kuchiki household one night, covered in the blood of the man she had perhaps loved, and Byakuya read the mission report as well as the death report, the angry, doting older brother in him never stopped condemning Ukitake Jyuushirou.

Because as a captain, Ukitake had been there to protect those weaker than him, to take charge of his men and keep the fight from becoming clouded and personal. If he had followed protocol, he never would have let Kaien engage the Hollow alone. He would have instantly killed his subordinate himself once Kaien had been compromised. He never would have let Rukia, a far lesser shinigami, draw her sword. He never would have brought Rukia with them in the first place.

And Ukitake knows all these things, just like Byakuya knows all these things, and so he doesn't mind the cold disdain that Kuchiki-taichou addresses him with, nor does he mind the lack of respect though Ukitake is his senior officer. He doesn't even mind the barbs about how many men he's lost this month, or the way, when they pass each other in a narrow corridor, Byakuya walks past him like he doesn't even see him, even though protocol dictates that the junior officer should allow the more senior to pass, even if both are captains.

Because if Ukitake let himself forget all about protocol that night, Byakuya obviously thinks that he doesn't deserve the courtesy of rules extended to himself, and Ukitake can't help but agree.

Because the night he forgot his role as captain was the night his vice-captain died. It was also the night that the Kuchiki household's precious daughter returned to her home covered in the blood of someone beloved to her, her eyes empty, a part of her forever broken.

And Byakuya is a doting older brother, despite the coldness he outwardly portrays to everyone, and he rightfully blames Ukitake for hurting his little sister that night.

So when they pass each other in narrow corridors, Ukitake pauses and lets Kuchiki-taichou pass first, and answers politely with "none, this month" when Byakuya asks him how many men he's lost lately.

He understands, after all, why Byakuya hates him.

**END **


	19. Helpless

**19.**

**Title:** Helpless  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** RenjixRukia, fleetingly, vaguely.  
**Word Count:** 527  
**Warning/s:** Renji and Rukia backstory spoilers, a few spoilers for early Soul Society stuff.  
**Summary:** All he ever wanted was to be strong enough to live.  
**Dedication:** Shirong, cuz she likes the pairing.  
**A/N:** I'm feeling Renji in this one right about now, so sorry if it's a bit…random. I'm projecting on to him. --;;

* * *

The worst thing in the world is feeling helpless. 

He doesn't like not being in charge of his own fate, he doesn't like that he has to supersede his own will and desires for those of others, but it's his job in the end.

And the irony of it all is that this is what he'd worked so hard for, for so many years. To become a shinigami so that he wouldn't be tossed to the winds of fate in Rukongai and inevitably meet a messy end there, a starving street rat who accomplished nothing with his short life.

So he worked to become a shinigami to prevent that. He and Rukia both did, and now that he's here, now that he's so much stronger than he used to be, he's discovered that…

…it's exactly the same.

He hasn't gotten anywhere, hasn't moved an inch.

He's still the same Rukongai gutter trash that he was years ago, except now, instead of the whims of fate, his destiny is decided by the whims of those in charge of him-- his superior officers, the old fogeys sitting back in their fancy council chamber, heck, even the Hollows to a degree.

He tries and tries and tries and in the end he's still a servant to _something_ out there that's greater than him, he who's unable to do what he wants in the end because he's merely a soldier without a will of his own that's been enlisted to fight in an army of gods and monsters.

He and Rukia…they'd done this so that they wouldn't be servants anymore, didn't they? So they wouldn't be casualties of chance… they just wanted to live their own lives.

They'd thought this was the best way to do it, to gain power and prestige in this court. That way they'd be strong. They'd live for themselves.

But even after all that, in the end, when his captain tells him to cut, Renji cuts. When Kuchiki-taichou asks him to attack, he attacks. He withdraws when Byakuya tells him to, imprisons Rukia when he's ordered to, escorts her to this goddamn tower when he's directed to.

In the end, all he can do is follow orders because he's discovered that here's exactly the same as Rukongai, except it's hidden behind more ceremony, more fancy terms and regulations and procedures.

He's still just the dog of some superior power out there, and no matter how hard he tries to break free of that, how strong he tries to become, he just finds himself more and more deeply immersed.

He watches Rukia sit and stare out of that crack in her cell at the fading sun and thinks that if he could, if he had the strength, he'd bust her out of here with his own power and take her far away, to a place that would make her happy, that would let her choose how to live for herself.

But all he can do is watch her watching the fading sun, because in the end, he can't do any of the things he desperately wants to.

Because it doesn't matter what you want when you're helpless.

**END**


	20. Chapter Two

**20.**

**Title:** Chapter Two  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s:** IchigoxRukia, Ishida  
**Word Count:** 531  
**Warning/s:** Spoilers for 181  
**Summary:** Ishida doesn't understand the ending to this story.  
**Dedication:** Greg, for dinner and the manga!  
**A/N:** I read Ch 181 and couldn't help myself.

* * *

Ishida can't understand how, after all their hard work and sacrifice, Ichigo can just turn around and walk away with that ridiculous smile on his face. 

But maybe that's why Kurosaki is the hero of this story and Ishida isn't, because he understands something that the Quincy doesn't, and hadn't all of this been in order to bring back Rukia safe and sound?

As they prepare to leave he sees how Ichigo holds his head up high and how he doesn't turn around once, though he knows Rukia is back there watching, with a inexplicable smile on her face that's probably exactly the same as Kurosaki's.

And Ishida is very confused, because this isn't how the story goes. Once the heroine is saved she and the hero ride off into the sunset together. She doesn't choose to stay with her former captors.

Though to be fair, her former captors are also her family and friends, so Ishida can maybe understand that a little bit. But what he can't understand is Ichigo's smile, or the way he doesn't even turn around once as they head through the gate back to their world.

There's a lot he doesn't understand about Ichigo and Rukia both, he thinks, and he wonders if anyone else agrees that the way this story is ending doesn't seem quite right.

And he tries to figure it out quickly, tries to stay silent and work out the pieces of the puzzle all by himself, but they're getting closer and closer to the door and before they begin to step through he can't help it, he explodes.

"Why are we leaving without her?"

And Ichigo pauses for a second at Ishida's question, still smiling. He answers simply with, "Because she belongs here."

And before Ishida can reply, Ichigo is gone, the first one through the threshold, that baffling smile still on his face, leaving without a backwards glance.

And Rukia doesn't run after them, but is smiling also, as Kurosaki disappears from Soul Society perhaps forever. And Ishida is so baffled by the both of them that he doesn't notice when Chad pushes him gently through the gate as well.

All he can think is that this isn't normal.

This isn't how the love story ends. This isn't how the hero and the heroine are supposed to act after all that they've overcome.

Kurosaki with his ridiculous smile and Rukia with the life brought back to her eyes and yet here they were, a billion miles apart.

Ishida tells himself that this can't be how it ends, because as endings go, this is far from right. It's not the way these things work.

In the blink of an eye, they're back on earth and Ichigo still has that knowing smile on his face as they emerge from the gateway. He still doesn't even pause to take a look over his shoulder as the door closes and disappears behind them forever.

Looking at Ichigo and his arrogant, undecipherable little smile, the only conclusion the Quincy can come to is that there's going to be more to this story.

He supposes that all he can do now is wait for the next chapter.

**END**


	21. Tears

**21.**

**Title:** Tears  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** YoruichixSoi Fong…ish  
**Word Count:** 438  
**Warning/s:** Repetitive angry Chinese girl action. And spoilers for like, Chapter 155-ish I think?  
**Summary:** Soi Fong hates weaknesses.  
**Dedication:** Jab, for humoring me and requesting something even though I'm melancholy and just no fun right now.  
**A/N:** Wow, I've never written Yuri before. Another first for me from Jab.

* * *

Soi Fong hates weaknesses. Anything that could be used against you, anything that makes you hesitate one second before the kill, anything that makes you wonder about yourself and your own abilities. She hates them all. 

She hates crying, especially.

And she hasn't, not since she'd discovered Yoruichi gone that one day, a long time ago. That was the only time she let herself cry before she took her former mentor's title, and with an iron fist, set out to make herself not need that kind of person anymore, to not cry anymore for the kind of person that just left without a word.

She worked hard to become strong, trained and battled until her knuckles were bloody and the skin was peeling off of her hands. She trained until she couldn't move those little legs of hers, until she buckled under her own strain.

And then she got up and trained some more.

Because she hated weaknesses, her own and Yoruichi's both. She hated that the person she'd trusted so much was weak to one despicable man who made her throw away her power and position in Soul Society to aid him in his shameful escape. She hates that Yoruichi let Urahara seduce her out of this place…

…away from her.

And what she hates even more is that she felt so betrayed, so abandoned, by that act. She hates how weak she feels when she thinks back and shakes from the anger of Yoruichi choosing that man over everything else.

And so she worked hard to become strong so that she could hate Yoruichi, so that she could be stronger than her so she wouldn't need her anymore. She trained to prove that Yoruichi wasn't her weakness after all. She worked and fought and practiced and never cried again since that night, because she was strong and she didn't need her old teacher after all.

And then Yoruichi returned years later, and Soi Fong was so ready to prove to her former mentor that she was better than she had been when she'd left, that she was strong enough now to not need her anymore.

She didn't expect that she'd cry like she did.

And when she started, she couldn't stop.

Then Yoruichi hugged her and apologized and Soi Fong discovered that when you keep yourself from crying, all it does is build up and build up until the moment you can't hold it back anymore.

In the end, that was the only thing she really ended up proving to herself.

That day she found herself, unexpectedly, crying all of those lost years into Yoruichi's arms.

**END**


	22. Panic

**22.**

**Title:** Panic  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s:** HisagixAyasekawa  
**Word Count:** 517  
**Warning/s:** Why yes, a little explicit language and suggestiveness in here.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei's waiting for it to all catch up with him.  
**Dedication:** Issei, and his office-blowjob jokes. XD  
**A/N:** I'm obviously in a better mood than I was earlier in the evening. Yes.

* * *

Shuuhei was waiting for the panic to set in. 

Any minute now and…

He frowned when his bedmate shifted on top of him and Shuuhei found himself automatically adjusting his shoulders in order to accommodate the new position.

Ayasekawa was sleeping comfortably next to him, all curled up like a cat half on Shuuhei's chest and murmuring happily in his sleep, warm and naked and so satisfied it radiated off of him in waves.

Shuuhei stared at the ceiling and patiently waited for the panic to set in.

Because the argument that had started this evening probably should have stayed an argument, with Yumichika pouting and whining and bitching about how Shuuhei was so mean to continue holding a grudge against him when all he'd done was best him in honorable battle. And couldn't they at least be friends, especially if Yumichika liked him so much?

And Shuuhei will admit that he was being a little bit petulant when he told Yumichika to leave him alone because he absolutely didn't feel the same way at all. And then he'd tried to storm off except Ayasekawa had challenged him again, told him to prove it if he was so certain that he would never like him back.

And the argument had escalated, and Ayasekawa was so goddamn _infuriating_ and got Shuuhei so out of sorts that before he knew what was happening, he'd yanked the other man close and told him he'd never like him no matter what, even if he did _this_.

And then he'd kissed him and everything had gone downhill from there.

Hours later, Shuuhei lay in his bed with a naked Ayasekawa sleeping on his chest, and waited for the panic to set in.

Because he expected nothing but panic after sleeping with someone under the circumstances they had. To add to it all was the fact that it was with another _guy_, and _Ayasekawa_ on top of that.

Yup, any second now, he expected hysterical panic to set in.

Three hours later and Ayasekawa was still asleep on top of him, nose buried into the crook of Shuuhei's neck, and the vice-captain was beginning to feel signs of exhaustion and sleepiness, but no sensations related to his scheduled panic.

Shuuhei frowned to himself and tried to figure out why that could be. After another hour wracking his brain, he finally admitted to himself that maybe, he wasn't going to panic after all.

Whether that relieved him or scared him more, he wasn't sure.

And then Yumichika squirmed a bit restlessly in his sleep, moving into a more comfortable position against Shuuhei, and all that really served to do set off memories of what they'd been doing this close to one another a couple of hours before.

And he supposed, when he thought about it like that, that maybe not-panicking was a good thing. Because it pretty much went without saying that if he did panic, he wasn't going to get him any more blowjobs.

And preferring blowjobs to panic any day, he decided that maybe it was time to just go to sleep.

**END**


	23. Babysitting

**23.**

**Title:** Babysitting  
**Rating: ** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **11th division  
**Word Count:** 511 (huh, pretty lucky)  
**Warning/s: **Lameness.  
**Summary: **Kenpachi is gone for a few days.  
**Dedication:** JaB, because she's going to make a KICK ASS Yachiru. OMFG crayons.  
**A/N: **JaB wanted antics. I tried for antics. I kind of just got lame. Oh well.

* * *

The eleventh division's fifth chair didn't think it would be too bad, when Zaraki-taichou announced he had to go teach academy brats for a few days, and that Ikkaku was in charge and Ayasekawa was going to keep Yachiru entertained. 

The first day had been fine, they'd colored beautiful pictures together and he'd read her a story and taken her out Hollow hunting and watched her take the rather pathetic one they'd found apart with her hands and smear its blood into finger paintings of Kenpachi and the rest of the division on some nearby rocks before it started to get dark and he put it out of it's misery by smashing the mask on what was left of the head. Then he'd taken her back, cleaned her up, fed her, and put her to bed just a little before nine in the evening.

And that hadn't been too bad a day when it came to the little pink wonder, and he was only mildly exhausted when he went to bed that night.

But it seemed that Yachiru didn't like doing the same thing day in and day out, as she was bored easily.

On the second day she disappeared for a good eight hours and Yumichika, in a panic (over the potential chaos that was going to be caused, rather than fukutaichou's safety), had the majority of the eleventh division frantically looking all over Soul Society for her.

She returned promptly in time for dinner all on her own, dragging what looked like an unconscious and bleeding Rukongai yakuza behind her before thrusting him at Ayasekawa and asking very sweetly, if they could keep him. His name was Pochi.

He told her absolutely no and made her get rid of it immediately before the vile thing started to stink the whole place up.

She sighed and pouted but eventually tossed it back over the fence and went to wash her hands at Ayasekawa's insistence.

On the third day he kept very careful watch over Yachiru. In order to entertain her so she wouldn't run off again, he tied two of the lower eleventh division chairs together to make a pony and assigned the role of prey to three other members. He gave Yachiru a lasso and sat down nearby to read magazines.

On the fourth day Unohana-taichou told them not to play so rough anymore and left care instructions for the five eleventh division shinigami whose ribs had been broken.

On the fifth day, under strict orders to behave from the fourth division captain and her occasional, random visits to see the patients from the day before, which also, consequently guaranteed their listening to her words, the eleventh division members found themselves really bored.

"Fukutaichou…didn't I tell you not to put that thing in your mouth? Really, you don't know where it's been! And it's ugly."

"Hey, watch it!" Ikkaku growled from behind his mound of paperwork, taking a moment to pause and glare at Ayasekawa while Yachiru chewed on his head. "Ow, dammit! Yachiru, cut it out!"

Bored, Ayasekawa sighed and hoped that Zaraki-taichou would be back soon.

**END**


	24. Strange New World

**24.**

**Title:** Strange New World  
**Rating: ** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Mentions of GinxKira, but not really a pairing fic.  
**Word Count:** 407  
**Warning/s: **Crack. And spoilers for 178-180-ish. And did I mention Crack? LOTS of crack.  
**Summary: **Gin misses Soul Society  
**Dedication:** Francis again, because his reaction to my last dedication was oh so… inspiring. XD  
**A/N: **Yes, I write Gin like he's a total weirdo, but I'm CONVINCED he is so there. Yeah, that was a lame excuse even to me.

* * *

Gin was bored. Sure, they'd made a dramatic exit into a new and exciting world or whatever, but really, the Menos were all so _boring_. 

"Take over the world" this and "Human souls mmmm" that and "Eat the humans!" and "We are the greatest evil known in the universe!" and "Bwahahahaha!" _all_ the time and there really wasn't much dimensionality to their new allies except that they were big and pointy.

Ichimaru sighed and found himself longing for good old Soul Society. He missed a lot of the things there, like those psychologically screwy, temperamental, _dumb_ shinigami that he'd come to know and love fucking with.

The other day he'd tried to speak with a Menos just conversationally. The conversation went as follows:

G: "So, what do you guys do for fun around here, eh?"  
M: "Take over the world!"  
G: "No, no. Not anything big like that. What I mean is, what do you like doin'? We're friends now, yeah? Let's go have some fun."  
M: "Like… human souls. Mmmm."  
G: "…okay. And?"  
M: "Eat the humans!"  
G: "…huh."  
M: "We are the greatest evil known in the universe!"  
G: "Yes, yes we are. That's great."  
M: "Bwahahahahaha!"

And then he'd left as soon as possible because even _he_ couldn't keep smiling at the giant imbecile when it was talking like that.

Gin sighed. He _missed_ the shinigami. He missed making Kira curl up under his covers shaking and crying like a little girl. He missed pinching Hitsugaya's ass and then shrugging and pointing to Komamura when the kid jumped and whirled around with his sword drawn. He missed drawing Hollow doodles in his reports to Yamamoto and hitting on Kuchiki until the big prissy boy freaked out and ran away with as much dignity as possible. He missed going to the fourth division with false symptoms of illness, clutching his stomach and wailing like he was going to die and then have them go completely nuts trying to figure out what was wrong. He missed telling Kusajika-fukutaichou that Abarai-fukutaichou's hair was actually fake and then watch her try to yank it off. He missed convincing Zaraki that Kurotsuchi actually had a huge crush on him and that was why he was always picking fights.

He really missed a lot of things about Soul Society.

But the thing he missed most was…

…his toothbrush.

And maybe fetish sex with Kira.

But mostly, he missed his toothbrush.

**END **


	25. Examine With A Friend!

**25.**

**Title:** Examine With A Friend  
**Rating: ** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ambiguously AizenxGin  
**Word Count:** 241  
**Warning/s: **Yeah, more crack. It's just kind of unfeasible stupidity on my part as I wait for my uncle to pick me up.  
**Summary: **Hitsugaya wants to watch.  
**Dedication:** Ann, because I'm working on gearing myself up for KIDDIE PORN for her request. You heard me.  
**A/N: **I'm going to hell.

* * *

Hitsugaya knew he was young, but he didn't think he was _that_ young, and really, Matsumoto was such a _mom_ sometimes.

If they were going to go about it right where everyone could see them, he was well within his rights to watch.

He frowned and tried to squirm out from under his vice-captain's hold, her hand currently slapped firmly over his eyes as she held him still with the other.

This was _so_ not the way to treat a superior officer.

"Aizen-taichou! Gin! Please move to somewhere private! There are _CHILDREN_ present!" she barked, sounding scandalized on Hitsugaya's behalf, though not really surprised about anything herself.

"I'm _not_ a child!"

Okay, maybe he sort of sounded like one there, but _c'mon_. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't been looking with his own two eyes and he _really_ wanted to see what happened next because not even the craziest part of his imagination could come up with how those two were gonna make _that_ fit into _there._

But then Matsumoto dragged him away against his will and she was surprisingly strong when it came to certain things, which was such a _drag._

He was sorely disappointed later, when she explained to him that they'd only been checking one another for prostate cancer and it wasn't anything he should concern himself with.

But it had looked so much more interesting than just that.

He sighed. Really, adults were so boring.

**END**


	26. The Road to Self Discovery

**26. **

**Title: **The Road to Self- Discovery  
**Rating: ** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **AizenxGinxByakuya (Crack much? o.o)  
**Word Count:** 613  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the special chapter in vol 15 as well as some yaoi evilness to watch out for going on here. XD  
**Summary: **Gin and Aizen set out to figure out if Byakuya is really… well, you know…  
**Dedication:** Mike- totally inspired some evilness during Fanime, dood.  
**A/N: **I think it's the me-being-sleepy, but the flow for this one totally sucks. Ah well, I'm sleepy, dammit.

* * *

"He is." 

"I don't think so, myself, Ichimaru. But what I don't understand is why it's any business of ours either way."

"Because I can _prove_ it, Aizen-taichou."

"And what good would that do us in the end, Ichimaru?"

Gin grinned. "Because we'd know something he didn't," he stated plainly, not bothering to hide his very obvious appeal to Aizen's famous information-fetish.

The fifth division captain looked thoughtful for a moment. "Are you _sure_? I don't think he's…"

"He _is."_

"All right then Gin, we'll indulge in your little whim and see."

Gin smirked and saluted smartly. "Aye-aye, taichou sir," he quipped, merry in the knowledge that he'd convinced conservative Aizen-taichou to use his bankai for this very personal endeavor.

And that was how, that very afternoon, the fifth and third division captains came to visit the sixth division headquarters. On a very important quest, Gin and Aizen stepped briskly through the building's gates and into the main hallway, not bothering to knock on the door to Kuchiki Byakuya's office upon finding it.

Byakuya looked up incredulously as Aizen Sousuke and Ichimaru Gin suddenly burst into his office without any attempt at the necessary formalities, strolling in as if _they_ owned the place rather than he (really, how _dare_ they!). The sixth division captain, about to vocalize his outrage at the insult, stood fuming from his desk. However, his complaints were cut-off before he could say a word, as Ichimaru abruptly grabbed him by the flaps of his captain's coat and kissed him rather savagely.

Gin smiled and put his tongue rather enthusiastically to the task as the venerable Kuchiki-taichou froze, shocked in his grasp. Aizen watched speculatively from the entryway.

And then, momentarily regaining his senses, Byakuya struggled, ineffectually against Gin's tightfisted hold on his coat, knocking off papers and tipping over the ink well on his immaculately kept desk in the process.

Really, if Gin didn't know any better, it might've seemed as if Byakuya wasn't enjoying himself.

But it was too early in the game to concede defeat, and redoubling his efforts, Gin expertly slid his hand down around the front of Byakuya's pants. Much to the vice-captain's delight, he quickly found the exact proof he needed to proclaim triumph over Aizen in their earlier conversation.

And just like that, Kuchiki was suddenly very pliant in Gin's arms, letting a surprised little moan out from the very back of his throat when Ichimaru touched him just right Gin smiled into the kiss and claiming uncontested victory in this contest, decided that as a victor who deserved the spoils of war, he should begin despoiling.

He began to undo his sash.

Except Aizen's hand was suddenly on his shoulder, restraining him, and fearing that the other captain was going to be a party pooper this far into the game, the silver-haired shinigami broke the kiss and turned around, licking his lips hungrily. "Yes, Aizen-taichou?"

"I concede defeat in our earlier discussion," Aizen began to explain slowly, calmly removing his glasses and setting them aside. "However, Ichimaru, as a good sport as well as my former vice-captain, I must insist that you share your winnings."

Relieved, Gin's smile slowly returned and without further ado, he dragged a panting, disoriented Byakuya forward, over his desk and into Aizen's welcoming arms. "By all means, sir," he breathed, gesturing plainly for his captain to partake of the very confused, prettily flushed little gift the sixth division captain made. Though admittedly, he was already half-opened.

Neither minded.

When Kuchiki Byakuya woke up the next morning from what be believed to be an unfathomable, erotically disturbing dream, he found himself victim to a sudden, unprecedented identity crisis.

**END **


	27. Outed

**27.**

**Title: **Outed  
**Rating: ** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **HisagixAyasekawa, hinted-at ByakuyaxRenji and GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 814 (yeah, they get longer and longer, don't they? O.o)  
**Warning/s: **Silliness, OOC, but no spoilers really. Sorta sickeningly fluffy.  
**Summary: **Yumichika sets out to prove that Shuuhei is the best.  
**Dedication: **Shirong, cuz I finally got to see what she drew in my sketchbook today and OMG so cute. Thank you!  
**A/N: **I feel the need for some cracky romance today, and who better to use in such a thing than Shuuhei and Yumichika? So yeah, here they are, hopefully in an entertaining way.

* * *

Hisagi frowned, looking at Yumichika nervously as the other man settled himself down into Shuuhei's lap and kissed him sweetly. "What was that for?" he asked, surreptitiously looking around to make sure no one had seen.

The other shinigami smiled brilliantly up at him. "For being sweet."

Shuuhei blinked. "Eh? We haven't even seen each other all day until now."

Ayasekawa laughed, all bubbly and cute, which told Shuuhei that he was definitely in a good mood, for some odd reason. "You're always sweet," he insisted, resting his head on the vice-captain's chest.

Shuuhei sighed. "What do you want?"

"I don't want anything," Yumichika complained, pouting up at the other man. "I'm just happy that I'm with you and not Ichimaru-taichou or Kuchiki-taichou."

Shuuhei snorted. "Where the hell did _this_ come from?"

"Weeeelll," the other man started, absently tracing a pattern on Shuuhei's exposed shoulder. "I was talking to Renji and Kira today…"

Hisagi rolled his eyes. "Oh, I see."

"And they were complaining about aches and marks and lack of sleep. Kira showed me a horrible burn mark on his collarbone from Ichimaru-taichou and really, Renji, who's normally so beautiful, looks absolutely exhausted!" Yumichika complained, obviously on their behalves and not to gloat at all. Obviously.

Shuuhei groaned and rested his chin on top of Ayasekawa's head, waiting for the other man to finish because he obviously wasn't going to let him get any work done until he was. "And?"

"And when I said I felt sorry for them, they got all defensive and asked what _I_ would know about that sort of thing anyway," Yumichika sniffed. "So I told them unlike _their_ lovers, you're very considerate to me."

Shuuhei choked on his own air. "You told them _what?_"

"I told them that you were considerate," Ayasekawa responded, either not noticing or ignoring Shuuhei's distress at being outed in such a blasé manner.

The taller shinigami rubbed his temples with one hand. "And what did they say?"

"They, the unrefined boors that they are, refused to believe me of course. They were very rude about it."

Shuuhei was almost relieved, except Yumichika seemed rather bothered by his own words. "They didn't believe you?"

"No, though I guess they wouldn't. They said there was no way you'd come within a hundred feet of someone like me," Yumichika whined, looking up at Shuuhei with big, sad eyes. "They're really brutes."

Before he could stop himself, Shuuhei murmured agreement and gently tucked a lock of hair behind Yumichika's ear. "Yeah, they are," he allowed, feeling strangely indignant on Ayasekawa's behalf and wanting, suddenly, to beat the crap out of Abarai and Izuru both. "You okay?" he asked instead.

The other man smiled back at the question. "Un. Of course I am. Because in the end, even if they don't believe the truth about us, Shuuhei is better than both of their captains combined," he stated with that arrogant, complete certainty of his that usually annoyed Hisagi to no end.

Except now it was okay for some odd reason, and Shuuhei found himself impulsively cupping Yumichika's face and leaning down to kiss him softly. "All right then."

Ayasekawa smiled back, having no qualms about greedily accepting one of Shuuhei's rare displays of affection.

That being done, he sat up abruptly in the other shinigami's lap and called, "See? I told you I wasn't lying!" over Hisagi's shoulder before sticking his tongue out at whoever it was he was speaking to behind Shuuhei.

And Shuuhei groaned and buried his head into Yumichika's hair as he realized what exactly, that meant. "Damn you," he hissed, blushing fiercely and cursing himself for forgetting that his lover was very often, dangerously competitive.

He should have known he'd do something like this, really.

Ayasekawa chuckled and kissed Hisagi on the cheek in consolation. "I'm sorry! I had to prove Shuu-chan was the best out of everyone," he explained, smiling brilliantly.

Shuuhei sighed to himself, feeling rather hopelessly defeated by that smile. "Yeah, okay," he conceded, turning around to face the incredulous expressions on Abarai and Izuru's faces as they stood there gawking at the pair. He cleared his throat and glared at the interlopers. "You two got a problem or something?" he demanded, reminding himself that he was still their senior officer.

"Ah, no problem, Hisagi-senpai!"

"Right, no problem!"

Shuuhei found himself inexplicably smirking at their stunned responses. "Good then."

Cheeks flushed red, Kira and Renji made a few hasty excuses before scurrying off to wherever it was they'd come from.

Watching them practically sprint off and feeling strangely satisfied at their discomfort, Shuuhei thought that maybe, just maybe, this whole being outed thing wouldn't be so bad after all.

As if to confirm, Yumichika turned the other shinigami back to face him and promptly stuck his tongue down his throat.

So yeah, maybe being outed wasn't going to be so bad.

**END**


	28. Kurotsuchi's IMSILE of DOOM

**28.**

**Title: **Kurotsuchi's Insane, Maniacal, Scientifically Ingenious Laboratory Experiment of DOOM  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Mayuri, Urahara  
**Word Count:** 448  
**Warning/s: **Really, this is pretty cracky retarded. But fun to write, so there.  
**Summary: **Mayuri dreams of out-classing his predecessor.  
**Dedication: **Vinnie, thanks for driving me to my uncle's yesterday. Thanks!  
**A/N: **I'm packing my computer up at 8:30. Let's see if I can do something productive until then. --;;

* * *

Urahara Kisuke might have been considered the epitome of eccentricity when he headed the Gotei-13's research institute, but it had been an unquestionable law of the universe that he had also been a genius scientist and world-class developer. 

Which explained the enormous chip on Kurotsuchi Mayuri's shoulder.

It was always, "Urahara-taichou was nuts, but no one can top his gigai design, not even with all the developments made since his time!" or "I heard Urahara Kisuke was exiled from Soul Society because his brilliance was a danger to the very structure of the Gotei-13!" and other such backhanded praise of his forebear that it was enough to drive one a little bit insane.

It seemed that after all this time, Mayuri was reaching the 'very insane' marker.

He tried to be more eccentric, more flashy, more _brilliant_ that Kisuke in everything he did, from dress to mannerisms to the craziness of his experiments. He was sick of living in that smug bastard's shadow.

On this particular day, he had called a special meeting to unveil his latest creation, his latest masterpiece. It was sure to wow everyone into believing that he was a far superior experimenter than Urahara.

It had to.

Hefting his experiment high over his head, Mayuri grinned wickedly as the creature struggled and fluttered in the palm of his hand as he presented it to those gathered.

"Do you see? I call it, the pigeon-rat! It is a flawlessly sutured hybrid creature-- half rodent, half bird! Tell me, isn't it grotesque? Doesn't it make your insides curl with disgust at the possibilities of my new hybrid technology?" Mayuri explained, laughing manically as he did.

The other captains present, all of whom were coincidentally contemporaries of Urahara's class, shared a look, all sighing as they shook their heads. "This is what you gathered us to see, Kurotsuchi-taichou?" Ukitake began with a small frown.

"Yes, isn't it… ingeniously vile? It far surpasses Urahara's pathetic attempt at hybrid creature engineering, does it not?"

Even if the technology had been improved, it didn't take away from the fact that his creature was rather…useless. And not really that original in the first place.

"Uh… Kurotsuchi… I think that they've already made something like that, or at least, have fathomed it," Aizen-taichou started gently, looking awkwardly, though not unkindly at the young scientist.

Mayuri blinked. "_What_?"

"American animated television in the human realm, I believe," Kyouraku began with a small, pitying smile.

There was an awkward silence between the twelfth division captain and the other captains he had called to meet.

After a moment, Mayuri sighed and tossed the sad looking creature over his shoulder, stalking out of the room. "Dammit."

**END **


	29. Never Look Back Philosophy

**29.**

**Title: **Never Look Back Philosophy  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchigoxRukia (lightly)  
**Word Count:** 307  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for 181  
**Summary: **It doesn't matter if no one gets it.  
**Dedication: **Beck-senpai, cuz she's always willing to help helpless ole me.  
**A/N: **Kind of sappy, but not really. I dunno.

* * *

Maybe no one gets it, but Ichigo doesn't really feel like explaining exactly why he'd been able to leave Soul Society without so much as a backwards glance. 

Because it's not important, really, for anyone to get it if they haven't on their own already anyway. To Ichigo, it doesn't matter if no one else in the world gets it so long as he and Rukia do.

And maybe that's a little bit selfish, after all they _all_ went through to get her back, but his friends are a thousand times smarter than him, and he's pretty sure that even if they don't get it exactly, they understand.

They understand that just because she chose to stay, it doesn't mean that…

"Ichigo…"

He looks up at the sound of his name and there she is. She steps through the open window with that smug little expression of hers that she's so damn good at, one of those legendary death gods dressed all in black and with the prettiest face he's ever seen. Here she is, sneaking into this high schooler's bedroom in the dead of night even though he's got class the next morning.

And all he can do is smile back. "Yo."

Her lips quirk upwards as she takes him in, and she gestures with her chin, back towards the outside world. "Let's go, Ichigo."

Anticipatory, he gets up, having already taken Shinigami form hours ago. "All right."

And they disappear into the dark together.

Just like that, they're together again, running as fast as they can, side by side in the middle of the night chasing Hollows like nothing's changed, because really, it hasn't.

And Ichigo grins like he's having the time of his life, thinking to himself that it doesn't matter if no one else gets it, so long as he and Rukia do.

**END **


	30. The Talk

**30.**

**Title: **The Talk  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou, a smidgen of KyourakuxUkitaka, and Unohana wisdom thrown in for fun.  
**Word Count:** 464  
**Warning/s: **Silliness, but no spoilers as far as I know.  
**Summary: **Hanatarou asked the wrong question.  
**Dedication: **Christina, cuz her Unohana rocked.  
**A/N: **Probably really, really, the last one for now. Unless I you know, get another idea or something in the next half hour.

* * *

Unohana-taichou really is the most considerate captain out of the whole Gotei-13. Hanatarou's convinced of it. She's always kind and calm, and treats all of her subordinates like they are her children rather than her soldiers.

And the fourth division can certainly use the mothering, considering that they're essentially the kids-who-always-get-their-lunch-money-stolen-at-school-by-the-bigger-kids.

But Hanatarou thinks that maybe sometimes Unohana-taichou is too much like a mother and that combined with the fact that she is very much a professional doctor tends to lends itself to some rather awkward situations.

Like right now.

He looks surreptitiously to the side where Ganjyu's sitting beside him as Unohana very calmly explains to him that sex is a big step in any relationship and that it's important for two people to really care about each other and each other's needs before they breach that level of intimacy.

And Ganjyu looks absolutely horrified as she shows him slides and tables and asks him if he cares to share, how much experience he's had with this sort of thing before.

And Hanatarou thinks that Ganjyu is going to _kill_ him later when they get out because Hanatarou had accidentally let it slip that he was curious as to how guys did things of that sort together.

Which is where this whole misunderstanding stemmed from, really, because Ganjyu had just come today for his innocent, weekly visit like he always did, and not to do anything like _that_. Hanatarou hadn't exactly had Ganjyu in mind when he'd thoughtlessly asked the question either, having been curious about it ever since he'd unintentionally stumbled across Ukitake-taichou and Shunsui-taichou one day in the supply house. That was _it_, he swore it.

But that's beyond the point now, because the rumor has spread like fire after he asked his question and Hanatarou can't do anything about it now because it was Unohana-taichou who had come forward very calmly, and asked if she could have a word with he and Ganjyu today before they left to wherever it was they were planning to go.

And now there's a sex talk and Ganjyu looks as if he's going to explode, he's so red. Hanatarou can't concentrate on what Unohana-taichou is saying because he's really worried that his friend will really kill him for this later.

But then Unohana asks both of them if either have any questions, and to Hanatarou's surprise, Ganjyu raises his hand and with embarrassed eyes, asks her to please explain that last part one more time.

And then Hanatarou panics a little bit himself and pays more attention to Unohana-taichou instead of Ganjyu, because after that question, it suddenly strikes him that maybe Ganjyu isn't going to kill him and that what she's talking about will be very important in the near future after all.

**END**


	31. Conversion Rates

**31.**

**Title: **Conversion Rates  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika   
**Word Count: **578  
**Warning/s: **Was supposed to be cracky, just sort of turned out… mushy. ARGH. So warnings for lot sand lots and lots of romantic mush.  
**Summary: **Shuuhei likes women.  
**Dedication: **Issei, since I'm using his computer to write shounen-ai and he's happily oblivious to it, sleeping behind me. XD XD XD  
**A/N: **Obviously out of practice already. Obviously also missing the familiarity of my own computer and keyboard. Also, I'm bored and hungry. ;; I just hope that I don't keep writing rather…boring things like this through the summer. Blaaah!

* * *

Hisagi Shuuhei was pretty certain that he'd only admired women before this whole fiasco began. He'd been too busy fulfilling his duties as a vice-captain to do anything about his admiration of course, but he was certain that he'd only noticed women before and definitely not men.

Which didn't really explain why he had his arms wrapped around Ayasekawa as they stole a quick kiss before he had to be off, but still. It was a principle sort of thing that he just wanted to make clear.

He liked girls, he did.

He'd noticed how beautiful and strong Matsumoto was, undoubtedly. One time, he'd thought about how Ise would look cuter with maybe her hair down and a less severe expression on her thoughtful face. He'd wondered about pretty, meek Kurotsuchi Nemu, and what was behind that timid, sweet smile. He believed that young Hinamori would grow from innocently cute to utterly lovely and that Soi Fong would overcome the chip on her shoulder and learn to smile again one day. And in the end, he'd hoped that all of these striking shinigami women would attain a flawless, serene grace much like Unohana-taichou's as the years passed them by.

And all these thoughts he remembered having certainly attributed to the argument that Hisagi Shuuhei liked women, didn't they?

But he was still here, drinking in Yumichika's sweet kisses and his infuriating giggles, those unmistakably masculine arms up and locked around his throat as the two of them embraced, his own hands wrapped around a waist that wasn't tiny and curved, but lean and firm.

And it worried him that it was those things that instantly made every thought of Matsumoto's strong beauty or Ise's hidden cuteness disappear. When Ayasekawa smiled up at him with those pretty flushed cheeks, Shuuhei immediately forgot about Kurotsuchi's quiet charm or Hinamori's youthful sweetness. Soi Fong's determined sorrow and even Unohana's glowing kindness just seemed to quietly fade out into a blur at the back of his mind when he was kissing and being kissed like he was now.

And that worried him sometimes, when he had time to stop and think about all of it. Because he was convinced that he liked women.

But then again, a part of him said that it was okay, because really, in comparison to all of those pretty shinigami, to Shuuhei, Yumichika was more beautiful than Matsumoto, cuter than Ise, more mystifying than Kurotsuchi, more wide-eyed and naïve than Hinamori. He was prettier glaring than Soi Fong was and had a different sort of radiance that outshone Unohana's in intensity and energy.

And when Shuuhei looked at it like that, he thought that maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

Because if nothing else, he could brag that the prettiest shinigami in all of Soul Society was all his.

And even though Shuuhei was fairly certain he still liked women, it was pretty much a sure thing to him that Ayasekawa had all the women he knew beat in the looks department anyway.

That established, he reluctantly pulled away and, tucking a strand of hair behind his lover's ear, bid him goodbye for the day before heading back to the ninth division headquarters, feeling lighter for having decided that it was okay for him to be in love with Ayasekawa. Because really, when Shuuhei thought about it, Yumichika was unquestionably the most beautiful of all the shinigami in the Gotei-13.

He purposefully avoided thinking about personality.

**END **


	32. Pushover

**32.**

**Title:** Pushover  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ChadxIshida, Ichigo  
**Word Count:** 337  
**Warning/s:** Spoilers for Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Chad's too nice sometimes.  
**Dedication:** Beck, for lunch. XD Sankyuuuuuuu!  
**A/N:** This time, I use Christine's computer. We'll see if it gave me better vibes than Issei's did last night… :shifty eyes:

* * *

In a matter of weeks Chad would find himself in possession of an entirely new wardrobe. 

Ishida had gone slightly insane since they'd returned from Soul Society and somehow, Chad had become his model of choice. Ichigo said it was because he was too nice and didn't tell the idiot to lay off after the first time like he should of, and as a result, Ishida had obviously taken it as some form of silent acquiescence to keep going.

Chad blinked back at his best friend and wondered what he could have possibly said to quell an excited Quincy who currently had nothing else to do as he had recently lost all of his powers.

And besides, Chad figured if sewing was what Ishida was going to focus on to get over the loss of his abilities, then all he could do as a friend was to stand quietly by and support the other boy in all of his endeavors.

Which was the only reason why he was currently wearing a matching blue and white Quincy-style striped pant and shirt set with his name lovingly sewn into the personalized tags.

Ichigo thought it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever seen.

Chad sighed to himself as Ishida adjusted his collar, straightened his pants, checked the crotch and ass for enough space.

"Is that okay, Sado?"

The larger boy flushed slightly. "Uh…a little tight."

"Hmmmm…" Ishida looked thoughtful. "All right, take off the pants."

Behind them, Ichigo snorted.

"Okay…" Chad began to take off his pants and thought that yeah, maybe he was too nice about some things.

But then Ishida shared a secret smile with him and turned so that Ichigo couldn't see his face, hand lightly brushing the side of Chad's thigh. "Next time, I'll be sure to take more accurate measurements," he assured the taller boy, glasses gleaming.

And then Chad thought that maybe Ichigo didn't know what he was talking about and that he was being exactly as nice as he needed to be.

**END**


	33. Farewell Party

**33.**

**Title:** Farewell Party  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Urahara, Yoruichi  
**Word Count:** 377  
**Warning/s:** Spoilers for later parts of the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Urahara wanted to go out with a bang.  
**Dedication:** Beck again, cuz she requested it.  
**A/N:** Urahara is fun. XD

* * *

"What did you do this time?"

Urahara wanted to look affronted, except he was too busy laughing because life was funny.

"Ah… nothing, nothing…" he assured her, waving absently in her direction while surreptitiously looking over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't been followed.

On his answer, she allowed her bored face to shift into a slight, knowing smile. "Nothing, huh? Then, you wouldn't happen to know anything about why Yama-jii's beard was cut off, braided, and glued to the back of his head when he woke up this morning, would you? I heard the news this morning. It's caused a horrible uproar, really."

"Ah? That sounds… horrible," Urahara agreed, nodding sagely in an obvious attempt to hide his amusement. "I hope they find the culprit soon. That kind of delinquency shouldn't be tolerated in such a venerable court, of course," he smirked, looking far too self-satisfied for her to believe a word of his bullshit.

"I also hear you're the prime suspect," she murmured, examining her hair for split ends in a lazy fashion.

"Me? Why…that's preposterous," he countered, looking all insulted at the insinuation. Luckily for her, she was too used to his kicked-puppy act for it to take much effect anymore.

"Preposterous or not, Kisuke… you probably shouldn't have come to the first place they would look for you."

"Is that so?" he replied, looking overly thoughtful at her suggestion. He smiled slyly, the look on his arrogant face telling her that there was something more afoot than he was letting on. "Well if that's the case, I suppose I'd best run to the _last_ place they would look for me then, ne?"

She frowned, reading his expression. "What do you mean?"

He suddenly turned sweet on her, though his eyes held a certain serious glint that made her instantly wary of whatever he was going to tell her next. Rubbing the back of his head rather sheepishly, he smiled and said, "Ne…Yoruichi-san…I've been meaning to ask you a favor for a while now…"

Looking back, he really did run to the last place they'd look for him.

Looking back, she also should have figured he would have wanted to go out like he had.

Yamamoto's beard took years to grow back.

**END**


	34. the Grass is Greener

**34.**

**Title: **the Grass is Greener  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, Matsumoto  
**Word Count:** 443  
**Warning/s:** No spoilers, but some OOC silliness here. Aheh…  
**Summary:** The girls like playing with what isn't theirs.  
**Dedication:** Shirong, again for drawin' me the awesome HxA art in my sketchbook.  
**A/N:** Just a quick drabble while we watch a movie. I think the recent flux of yaoi-only drabbles I've been writing is due to getting feedback along the lines of "OMG You should write normal stuff, with boyxgirl!" because the suggestion that guys with guys is abnormal kind of...offends me. So yeah. quite a bit of shounen-ai and yaoi lately. Yay!

* * *

Shuuhei was beginning to think that women only wanted you after they knew they couldn't have you. 

Or they had some sick fixation with seeing if their allure was powerful enough to tempt you away from whomever it was you were currently with.

It was probably all a giant ego contest like that in the end- winner gets bragging rights and loser is… well, inevitably the male participant in such a competition after he's dumped by both the invading and defending parties as a result.

That being said, Shuuhei was beginning to think that it had been a mistake to let everyone know he was involved with Ayasekawa last week, if only for the fact that women were now suddenly, inexplicably, drawn to him.

"Mornin' Hisagi," Matsumoto greeted as she passed, winking at him invitingly. "How'd you sleep last night, champ?"

He frowned. "Um…fine."

"That's good," she responded, smiling resplendently as she lingered bodily at her turn off, stopping to lean against the wall for a moment. "You do look like you got a good night's sleep."

"I uh…went to bed early."

"That so? Maybe you can come over some time and show me how that works. Us poor, overworked vice-captain's don't get that a lot, mm?" she asked, leaning her head back and running her hand along the side of her exposed neck.

Hisagi averted his eyes. "That's true. Well, um, perhaps if you speak to Hitsugaya-taichou you can work something out?" he offered, helpfully.

Watching him thoughtfully, she frowned after a minute of awkward silence. "Well, I better get back to work then. I'll see you later, Shuuhei."

Matsumoto gave him one last, pensive look before she chuckled to herself and rounded the corner, off to wherever it was Hitsugaya-taichou was sending her.

"Uh…yeah. See you later."

It wouldn't have been such an abnormal exchange if their conversations in the past hadn't solely consisted of "Hello" and "can't stay and chat, taichou needs these forms ASAP."

But they had, and now that he'd been, for lack of better word, 'outed', there were winks and lingering and extra emphasis on those rather intimidating breasts added to the mix.

Shaking his head, he hoped that Yumichika appreciated everything he was giving up for the other man's sake.

Around the corner, the tenth division vice-captain sighed and adjusted her shirt back to what was a protocol-appropriate level, looking over her shoulder wistfully. Tossing her hair, she headed back towards where Ise and Hinamori were eagerly waiting to hear about her third failure of the week. They thought it was so romantic, really.

All Matsumoto had to say was, "It's always the good ones."

**END**


	35. Empty Nest

**35.**

**Title: **Empty Nest  
**Rating:** PG-13 (language, etc. etc.)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika mentions, Kenpachi, Ikkaku  
**Word Count:** 397  
**Warning/s: **Lame 11th division crack. No spoilers, really.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi's lonely.  
**Dedication:** Kelly, who's obviously missing everyone herself.  
**A/N:** I am a world of LAME. LAME!

* * *

"Oi… Ikkaku, where the hell is Yumichika?" Kenpachi demanded, chewing on the end of his pipe moodily. 

"Uh…think he went out with Hisagi again, taichou."

The eleventh division captain snorted. "Che. Fuckin' newlyweds."

"Ah, you want me to go find 'im, sir?"

"Yeah, yeah, do that. It's shameful…always runnin' around in the ninth division like he is. Ya'd think he's forgotten us or somethin', huh?" the captain grunted, frowning. "Should kill that pretty boy of his. That'd show him. Heh."

"Uh, yessir. I'm gonna head out then, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay."

Ikkaku slipped outside of his captain's office, wisely avoiding any comments about Kenpachi's apparent abandonment issues when his subordinates felt the need to look for company outside of the division.

Kenpachi himself wouldn't hear any of it, of course. But Ikkaku suspected empty nest syndrome or something like that was plaguing his captain, especially with Yachiru in school now that she'd reached a certain age (fuckin' protocol wouldn't let her be part of the Gotei-13 without meeting the basic primary school education requirements) and Ayasekawa running off to be with his boy toy from the ninth division every waking hour. On top of that, Zaraki's third and fourth chairs were acting vice-captains in Yachiru's absence, which meant lots of running around and go-for work that left them little time to sit back and chat with their captain. Kenpachi was probably just sulking at having been left all alone in his dark office with nothing but a stack of paperwork and no one to kill/abuse/maim/talk to, what with all the other division members off on duty in their assigned sections of the human realm.

Ikkaku was thinking of maybe getting him a puppy.

Except that he'd probably eat it. Or at the very least, kill it dead with too much… Zaraki-style love.

Madarame sighed and went in search of Ayasekawa, hoping that the big idiot knew the grief he was causing their taichou, always running off like that.

Later that evening, Ikkaku was forced to return to the eleventh division headquarters without their fifth chair.

"Ya didn't find Yumi?"

"Ah, no sir," he lied, avoiding Kenpachi's manic look. In reality, he had found Ayasekawa. In fact, he'd found both Yumichika and Shuuhei. Which had been the problem. He swore, they were rabbits, the both of them.

"Ya didn't?"

"No sir… but uh… look!"

Ikkaku held out a puppy.

**END**


	36. Come Alive

**36.**

**Title: ** Come Alive  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Renji+Rukia, IchigoxRukia  
**Word Count:** 690  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Renji thinks that everything should be okay now.  
**Dedication:** Shirong, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! (though I'm technically half an hour late now… )  
**A/N:** Just felt like writing something in honor of our ex-prez's birthday today. CONGRATS!

* * *

Everything's okay now. At least, that's what Renji wants to think. Rukia's fine and the Gotei-13, while fractured in some parts, has also grown stronger in others, if Shuuhei's monumental efforts to keep the ninth division together after the departure of their captain means anything. As for himself, Renji finds that his relationship with his captain is stronger and more mutually understanding than it was before, an easy friendship and respect rather than the previous, grating rivalry.

So Renji wants to think that it's because of things like that that everything's fine in Soul Society again. In fact, he wants to think that it's even better than it used to be, because Rukia's here, and with his own two eyes he saw her shoot down that orange-haired brat and choose to stay here, with her friends and her family instead of going back with him.

And to Renji, that means that everything should be fine. Absolutely perfect.

Except that that runt Yamada is visiting her again and they're talking away, exchanging stories and experiences and reminiscing together… most likely about the very orange-haired super-brat that she'd supposedly rejected in favor of her friends and family, her home.

And really, it shouldn't be a problem, because Renji likes to believe he's practical enough to acknowledge the fact that no matter how much she likes to talk about Kurosaki Ichigo, she's still _here_ in Soul Society with _him_ and not out there with _that guy_. That's what should matter.

It should be fine, really.

Except that ever since that spiky-headed loud-mouthed idiot left, it seems like part of her went with him.

And it's only when she's talking about that snot-nosed human shinigami-wannabe that her eyes light up like she's really alive again.

And that's all it takes for him to know that even though she chose to stay here, even though she knows she _belongs_ here, she's still hung up on that too-tall, smart-ass, freaky-haired human kid. He knows that even though she's here, all she's really doing is waiting for Kurosaki Ichigo to come back, however long that may take.

And while everything should be fine, is as close to fine as it can be since this whole mess began, Renji can't help but feel like it couldn't be more wrong, because even though Rukia's here with him, she's not really. She's somewhere off in the human world, the place she remembers in her head. She's off in the place that makes her eyes light up like she's genuinely happy again, as if she's somehow found that person she'd once been a long time ago, back when she'd first joined the thirteenth division and met the legendary Shiba Kaien. Only this time, it's even _more_ than that somehow, because this time, Ichigo's proved his strength and that's given her hope that history won't repeat itself, that she can put all of her dreams on this _kid _and they won't be shattered again.

And Renji thinks that _that_'s what makes him believe that even though everything _should_ be fine, it really isn't. At least, not for him.

Because when the person you love only comes to life at the thought of someone else, it makes everything in a world that might be okay seem horribly wrong somehow.

That in mind, Renji sighs and turns around, forcing himself to get back to work when all he really wants to do is jump between her and Yamada and wave his arms up and down while screaming that he's _here_ _with her_ in this place where she belongs, and that she shouldn't be thinking about anyone else when _he's_ the one that wants to bring those eyes of hers to life and that he's _right here to do it._

Except he can't, because he's tried. He has. And it never works, not the way he wants it to.

She never quite comes as fully alive for him as she does at the mere memory of Kurosaki Ichigo.

And he thinks that what he hates most about all of this is that no matter what he does, he's always losing to too-tall, loud-mouthed, spiky-haired idiots.

**END **


	37. Endearing

**37.**

**Title: ** Endearing  
**Rating:** PG-13 (some yaoi-implications)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **HisagixAyasekawa  
**Word Count:** 424  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but some random Renji and Iba bashing that I don't mean. ;P  
**Summary:** Shuuhei gets embarrassed in public a lot.  
**Dedication:** Mel, congrats on the job!  
**A/N:** I don't want to do my English homework.

* * *

"Have a nice night, _pookie_!"

"Ehehehehe yeah, g'night, _sweetheart_!"

Shuuhei was tempted to turn around and punch out Abarai and Iba's lights for their ridiculous comments, but he was late as it was and things would only get ugly if he postponed his return any more on account of those two idiots.

So he gritted his teeth, snarled a "go to hell" over his shoulder at them and headed back to his quarters without any of the desired fisticuffs.

Behind him, the other two vice-captains snickered shamelessly, catcalling until he was out of sight.

As he walked, the ninth division vice-captain resolved to kill them tomorrow morning, bright and early.

Though when he stopped to think about it, those two were morons really, and the only person really at fault for this whole pet-name fiasco was Ayasekawa, because whenever Shuuhei's lover was involved in anything, Yumichika would always be the one at fault for whatever distress Shuuhei had to face as a result of his actions.

Like, for instance, the pet-names.

The thing was, Yumichika had no qualms about happily calling Shuuhei all sorts of embarrassing monikers in the presence of anyone else, especially his (quote) "low-brow ruffian junior officer friends". Though all he did was give those ruffians a lot of ammo, really. Whenever they came across one another during the day it was, "Hi honey!" or "you look tired, sweetheart," or "did you eat your special love-packed bento yet, baby? Was it good?" and then he'd kiss Shuuhei on the cheek and be off to wherever it was he'd been going, completely oblivious to the fresh grief that he'd caused Hisagi, who was left behind with the others to deal with the "honey" and the "sweetheart" and the "baby" all by himself.

He was pretty damn sure Yumichika got some sort of sadistic glee out of messing with him like that. And he'd told the other man to stop a hundred times, at least while other people were around, but then Ayasekawa would blink at him and frown a little and ask if he hated it so much, and Shuuhei must've been getting soft because he was never able to tell him that he in fact, hated it.

But he did hate it, he really did.

And after today, he was resolved to tell Ayasekawa exactly that over dinner tonight, was just about to take a breath and let it out the second he saw the other man. Except…

"Welcome back, love!"

…the moment he stepped through the door, he completely forgot.

**END**


	38. Winds of Change

**38. **

**Title: ** Winds of Change  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ichigo+Keigo (one-sided weird ness yo)  
**Word Count:** 333  
**Warning/s: **Stupidity and randomness, but no spoilers   
**Summary:** Keigo feels supplanted.  
**Dedication:** Greg, for telling me to try something/someone new in one of these things…  
**A/N:** I'm such a dumbass… --;;

* * *

Things are changing, and while Keigo thinks that the springtime of life is pleasant, he muses, rather poetically might he add, that it, like the sakura, are merely short-lived things of beauty in the sands of time.

They have begun a new term and already, it feels like the whole class has aged by leaps and bounds over the break. Ichigo, the bastard, is all buddy-buddy with Inoue and Ishida all of a sudden, and Keigo frowns to himself and thinks that it's rather cruel of Kurosaki to totally ditch Mizuiro and he like this so suddenly.

Mizuiro doesn't seem to mind one bit, busy with his women as he is, but Keigo states that it's the principle of the matter that's important, and not the actualities.

What it's really about is the fact that he and Mizuiro had been the ones who were friends with Ichigo _first_ and that that sort of beautiful friendship shouldn't have been so easy to usurp by outsiders, no matter how cute Orihime might be.

It just isn't right. Especially to the fellowship of men!

Keigo is very passionate about the whole thing as he and Mizuiro sit by themselves during lunch, Ichigo and Sado and Ishida and Inoue having run off to another one of those strange group bathroom breaks they've been prone to over the past few days.

There's something fishy going on there, and Keigo wants in on it because it's not fair to exclude the original best friends from the fun of what must obviously be delinquent juvenile activity.

Mizuiro sighs as he listens as patiently to Keigo's ranting as possible. After a while he suggests, very calmly around the straw of his juice box, that maybe this is the divinely-sent opportunity that Asano has been looking for and that he should take advantage of it to get over his long-standing crush on Ichigo, as _that_ obviously won't lead anywhere in the future.

Keigo is so surprised he snorts Ramune out his nose.

**END**


	39. Fangirlism

**39. **

**Title: ** Fangirlism  
**Rating:** PG-13 (yuri implications)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Chizuru+Orihime, ChizuruxTatsuki  
**Word Count:** 275  
**Warning/s: **Nothing i can think of...  
**Summary:** The power of obsession.  
**Dedication: **Beck, who keeps asking me to do Yuri. --;;  
**A/N:** WEIRD.

* * *

She had a plan. It was the best plan in the world and as such, could do nothing but accomplish her goals of wooing her precious Hime to her side forever and ever and far away from disgusting things like boys. Well, boys who liked girls. 

But right. It was all about the plan. She'd prove to Orihime how much more she loved her than any male ever could!

Why, there was a shrine in her closet with _thirty two_ candles in it. She'd had a T-shirt printed with Inoue's face! She was the president, vice-president, secretary, treasurer, AND number one member in good standing of the Inoue Orihime fanclub! She'd made _pins_!

And in a few more weeks, after she learned how to crochet a certain pattern from Ishida in the crafts club, she'd have a genuine Orihime plushie to boast of, complete with cute hairclips, crumbs on the face, and a pair of charming double-D's.

No one else on the _planet_ could compare to her when it came to loving her sweet, super-cute Hime. No one.

And once all of those things were complete, her plan would finally be set in motion and…

"Oi, stupid, stop staring at that creepy shrine of yours and get back in bed, would ya? We've got class tomorrow, remember?"

Chizuru frowned and looked disdainfully over her shoulder. "Humph. You just don't understand my passion!"

Tatsuki snorted and pulled the covers up over her head derisively. "You've freakin' got thirty two candles in your closet. I think if anyone didn't understand your passion they'd have to be retarded. Now can we please go to sleep?"

Chizuru pouted.

"_Today_, Chizuru."

"Fine."

**END **


	40. Mad

**40. **

**Title: ** Mad  
**Rating:** PG-13 for the boy kissing  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, Renji, Kira, Iba, Ikkaku  
**Word Count: **629  
**Warning/s: **Some tongue action here and there…  
**Summary:** Everyone's trying to figure out how Yumichika landed a babe like Shuuhei.   
**Dedication: **JaB, for drawing me CRAYON PORN during AX. 3  
**A/N: **Yes, fanart makes me write more than I normally would. CAN'T HELP IT I'M A WHORE FOR THE PRETTY.

* * *

Abarai thought it was absolutely insane.

Kira was baffled.

Iba didn't understand. Or refused to.

Even Ikkaku was a little bit off-put by the whole thing.

But Shuuhei stood by his assertion that there was just something about Yumichika that was absolutely mystifying.

He just couldn't quite explain it himself.

"Look, senpai, all I'm sayin' is, if it's for the sex, really, there are about five-hundred pretty girls in the lower ranks I can think of that'd sleep with a good lookin' guy like you any day of the week," Iba muttered, still not quite getting it.

And the only reason Shuuhei didn't punch him for that sort of comment was because Iba being Iba meant that he probably didn't have the capacity to get it. Ever.

"And ya know, if it's the uh…well, the _guys_ you're lookin' for, senpai, I think there's a coupla well… _you knows_… in the fourth division that aren't half as annoying, really," Abarai put in hesitantly, looking like he was ready to jump backwards should Hisagi-senpai decide to really kick his ass for what he was saying.

Kira scratched his head, looking timid. "Uh…I'm sure it's just…this one guy, right, senpai? It's not really…uh… anything…well, _you know_."

Ikkaku snorted. "Look guys, we all know what's wrong with Yumichika, eh? What I'm tryin' figure out now is what the heck's wrong with Hisagi here."

Everyone was silent for a moment, and Shuuhei felt all eyes focus intently on him.

He frowned. "What?"

"Well uh, Ikkaku's gotta point there, senpai. I mean… we all know uh, Ayasekawa's sorta well, _you know_. But…um…why do you uh…why do you, _you know_ him back?"

Shuuhei grit his teeth. "There's nothing wrong with me," he muttered, flushing slightly. "At least…I don't think so. And what's wrong with Ayasekawa anyway?" he added defensively, though in retrospect, that was kind of a dumb question.

As if to confirm the fact, the other shinigami all looked at each other. And then back at him again like he was completely crazy.

Shuuhei glared reflexively. "Hey, I'm…"

"Shhhuuuuuuhei!"

_WHAM._

And then Hisagi suddenly found himself with an armful of Ayasekawa, the other shinigami having launched himself from a dangerously high speed at the ninth division vice-captain the moment he saw him from across the quad, slamming into him shamelessly and currently wrapped like a pretzel around the other man like he hadn't seen him for days instead of just… four hours.

"Yumi…oi…Yumi, get off, not in front of everyone!" Shuuhei started to protest, blushing fiercely as he tried ineffectually to tug Ayasekawa's arms off from around his neck.

"I'm sorry love, but I missed you!" Yumichika protested loud enough for everyone present and a couple of people across the way to hear. "Didn't you miss me too?" he asked, blinking big, excited eyes back up at his lover. "Ne, did you, did you?"

Shuuhei groaned and buried his head into Ayasekawa's shoulder upon hearing the question. Figures the bastard would ask that so he'd have to answer in front of all the guys. "Yeah," he muttered under his breath.

"Yay!" Yumichika beamed back at him before grasping Shuuhei's head in his hands and pulling him forward so he could kiss him rather soundly.

This went on for several minutes.

Abarai thought it was absolutely insane that someone could use his tongue like that.

Kira was baffled as to how little air Yumichika seemed to need.

Iba didn't understand what one of Ayasekawa's hands was doing to Hisagi. Or refused to.

Even Ikkaku was a little bit off-put by the whole thing, and he'd already walked in on something like this back in the eleventh division headquarters more times than he could count.

But at least, Shuuhei mused, they all seemed to get it now.

**END **


	41. Frat Buddies

**41. **

**Title: ** Frat Buddies  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Urahara, KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count: **745 (okay, so more like a ficlet, sue me…)  
**Warning/s: **Stupidity, some Urahara and Soul Society spoilerage.  
**Summary:** Kyouraku and Urahara are leik, Bros for life, yos.  
**Dedication: **Lisa, for being my glorious drunken debauchery buddy of JOY during AX (and for letting me mooch). I rub you!  
**A/N: **Yes, we took lots of AX pictures with the two of us being drunk idiots together. IT WAS GLORIOUS. GLORIOUS I SAY!

* * *

Ukitake finds Kyouraku drinking alone in the commissary, cheeks flushed pink enough to indicate a strong buzz, but no debilitating inebriation as of yet. The eighth division captain is looking thoughtfully between the bottom of an empty sake bottle and the empty seat next to him, like he expects to hear Kisuke's voice demanding a refill any second now. 

Ukitake smiles ruefully to himself and thinks that their class is indeed infamous now, what with two of their contemporaries having to flee Soul Society for different reasons.

Aizen is freshly gone and Urahara is long since.

And on nights like these, Ukitake finds Kyouraku sitting by himself at the bar, looking thoughtful as he no doubt, reminisces about the fun times he and Urahara had, first as new shinigami and then as young captains, way back in the springtime of their careers.

The thirteenth division commander shakes his head at the memories that thought invokes, recalling all of the slurred, drunken songs he had found the two of them singing together in the dead of the night, sake flowing, bodies swaying, faces red. He remembers the first night that they'd celebrated becoming captains together, and how it was thanks to Kisuke that he found it in himself to confess to Shunsui. Urahara had laughed and slung an arm around Jyuushirou, murmuring to Shunsui about how pretty their classmate was, and how he wouldn't mind sharing more than just warm sake with him. Kyouraku had gotten indignant at that, had pushed Kisuke's arm off of Ukitake's shoulder and said that good boys like his precious Jyuu-chan weren't for the likes of drunkards like them.

And then they'd all laughed, Ukitake's cheeks as pink as if he'd drunk as much as the other two. He'd been happy because of that then, happy to know that he was precious to Shunsui and happy enough to muster up the courage for a kiss later that evening as he'd half carried a sloshed Kyouraku home. He'd kissed him there in his room, right before the other man had passed out, falling asleep on top of Ukitake and not moving until late into the morning.

The next morning, they'd both awoken to a messenger from the twelfth division at their door, bearing a bottle of congratulatory wine and a note in Kisuke's scrawl reading: "Congrats and about time."

The bastard had always been too slippery, even for hangovers to catch.

Too slippery for anyone or anything to catch, apparently, because one day he was gone, the only thing left behind for Kyouraku being another one of those laughing notes of Kisuke's, a quickly scratched out, "Going away. Take care of Jyuu, ya old dog," and that was it.

Kyouraku had read it and lowered the brim of his hat to cover his eyes, smiling ruefully and chuckling to himself before crumpling the note and throwing it over his shoulder. "Geez, didn't even invite me for one last drink," the eighth division captain had complained, though he hadn't looked one bit surprised.

Though Shunsui will never admit it, Ukitake knows that he misses the other man terribly, especially on nights like these when all he wants is a drink and a song with an old friend by his side. For a while, Ukitake tried to fulfill that role, but it was too difficult for both of them and in the end, rather disrespectful to Kisuke's memory, so he'd stopped.

Because while Ukitake was Shunsui's lover, he couldn't be his best friend also. Because really, a person like Kyouraku could only have a person like Urahara fill that role, simply because Ukitake was certain that there was no way he could keep up with Shunsui's mischief quite like Kisuke had been able to.

It's a void in Shunsui's life that no one has quite been able to fill.

And it's on nights like these, when he comes to pick up Shunsui before he's too drunk to walk by himself, that Ukitake remembers those nights a long time ago, the three of them together. He smiles at his red-cheeked lover and understands that there's something gone from the other man's life that he himself will never be able to fully understand. All Ukitake can do for Kyouraku is hope that maybe Kisuke will return out of the blue one day, smiling that smug-bastard smile of his, ready with sake dish in hand.

Then he and Kyouraku can drink together again, just like old times.

**END**


	42. Technical Difficulties

**42. **

**Title: ** Technical Difficulties  
**Rating:** PG for some cussing  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Renji, Shuuhei, Byakuya  
**Word Count: **455  
**Warning/s: **OOC stupidity.  
**Summary:** Renji and Hisagi get locked in.  
**Dedication: **JaB and Shirong, because you two are funny. :P Also, thanks for letting me mooch at AX! 3  
**A/N: **So yeah, this is actually inspired by a comic Shirong drew at AX, she being Shuuhei and JaB being Renji…ah the hijinks. I love you both. XD

* * *

"I'm tellin' you senpai, it ain't opening!"

Shuuhei looked incredulously at Abarai. "What!"

"Like I said, it ain't opening!" Renji repeated, throwing his shoulder forcibly against the stuck door again for emphasis. "Owww, dammit!"

Shuuhei gaped. "So you're saying…"

"I'm sayin' we're stuck!" the younger vice-captain bemoaned, shoving at the heavy door with all his might.

"Can't we break it down?" Hisagi posed, a bit desperately.

"Ya think I didn't try already!" Renji exclaimed, indicating a hand with bloodied knuckles. "And I didn't bring Zabimaru with me!"

"We're gonna die," Shuuhei murmured, sounding despondent. "Why'd you let it close, you idiot!"

Renji glared back defensively, "Oi, you're the one that wanted to find a snack, goddammit!"

"I told you to hold the door!"

"It's dark!" Renji protested weakly. "And this ain't my fault! You're the one who got the munchies _after_ the commissary closed!"

"Well if we're gonna play poker with Iba and the guys later we can't drink on an empty stomach! We get drunk and those guys will fleece us without looking back!" Hisagi complained, obviously convinced his argument was the rational one here.

Renji sighed. "Yeah well, now we won't get _any_ alcohol or _any_ poker. Good job, senpai."

"Ah, shut up."

A few hours later and Abarai and Hisgai were roused from their sleep of despair in the pantry by the sound of the door joyously opening.

"Renji? Hisagi?"

Both vice-captains jumped up at the sound of that imperious voice. "Ah, Kuchiki-taichou, sir!"

Byakuya blinked in surprise at finding his vice-captain and the ninth division vice-captain sitting together in the cramped pantry this late in the night. "Did ah…you two come for snacks?" he posed, arching a brow.

"Uh…yeah, somethin' like that," Renji admitted, laughing sheepishly. "But uh…we got locked in."

"Locked?" Byakuya frowned at them and stepped inside, closing the pantry door behind him.

"NO!" Both vice-captains wailed, lunging feebly for the door.

"Sir, now we're ALL…"

Untroubled, the sixth division captain very calmly pulled it open again.

"…stuck in here," Renji finished lamely, looking dumbfounded.

Hisagi blinked at Kuchiki incredulously. "Sir? H-how did you uh…"

Byakuya sighed, shaking his head. "You have to pull. It won't open if you push at it from the inside."

"Pull? _PULL_!" Shuuhei barely refrained from tackling Renji and strangling him to death, opting to glare at the sheepish redhead fiercely instead. "Renji…_why didn't you try that_?"

"Uh…ahahahaha…my mistake…sorry 'bout that, senpai! Guess I didn't think to do that," the younger shinigami laughed, nervously.

"I'm gonna kill you."

"Before you do, Hisagi-fukutaichou, please pass me the box of senbei behind you."

"Ah, sure, Kuchiki-taichou, sir."

"Thank you."

Shuuhei waited patiently until Byakuya exited the pantry, senbei in hand, before he snarled and tackled Renji.

**END**


	43. Pie

**43. **

**Title: ** Pie  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchigoxRukia, Byakuya  
**Word Count: **436  
**Warning/s: **OOC stupidity, spoilers for Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** The joys of the human world.  
**Dedication: **Christine, because her drawing of Byakuya eating pieTOO CUTE. Also, more thanks for letting me mooch at AX. y  
**A/N: ** So we went to Coco's one night during AX and everyone got dessert. Christine, our Byakuya, loved her pie, and drew a REALLY CUTE picture of chibi-Byakuya eating it. So…yeah.

* * *

Byakuya was unconvinced that Rukia's many absences to go to the human world weren't due to the human world so much as the one human. Knowing an unhealthy attachment on his sister's part when he saw one, he resolved to convince her that with her and Ichigo being literally, from two different worlds, it would never work. 

She, being insufferably stubborn as she was, stated rather vehemently that it wasn't just Ichigo that made her attached to the human world, insisting that there were things there that made the long trip very much worth it, whether she would have Ichigo or not.

Byakuya was convinced that she'd much rather have him than have not, but wisely kept the comment to himself as she tended to like being cross with him for days on end when he attempted to be smart-alecky with her love life, and the last thing he needed was for her to make another unscheduled stop to Karakura because her brother was picking on her and she needed the reprieve.

He personally didn't want to be used as another excuse for her to run off to spend time with her loudmouthed idiot. As it was, she found plenty of excuses on her own just fine.

"Are you going again, Rukia?"

"Yes, nii-sama."

He sighed. "Must you?"

She smiled a little. "Do you miss me when I'm gone?"

He frowned. "Don't be coy, Rukia, and answer me straight, please."

"Ichigo informed me last week that this week the bakery I like best is going to have a special sale on pies, so yes, I've got to go," she responded easily.

Byakuya blinked. "Pie? What's that?"

"One of those things, nii-sama, in the human world that makes it worth visiting often," she told him, with a far away expression of bliss on her face.

"Pie?"

"Yes, nii-sama."

"It sounds unpalatable."

"It's really very good. Shall I bring back some for you?"

He tossed his hair and sat up straighter, imperious as ever. "Only if you really find it worthy of traveling between worlds, Rukia. I am still skeptical of there being something worth that much effort in the human world."

"I'll bring you back a slice, nii-sama."

And she did.

The next time she made a trip to the human realm, he found an excuse to go with her.

And that day, Kuchiki Byakuya discovered that the look on Kurosaki Ichigo's face when he saw the captain of Soul Society's sixth division step through the his bedroom window after Rukia was another one of the things worth visiting the human realm for, second only to pie.

**END**


	44. Hair

**44. **

**Title: ** Hair  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ukitake  
**Word Count: **436  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Kaien storylineOOCness.  
**Summary:** Ukitake is beautiful.  
**Dedication: **Ann, who HATES WEARING THAT UKITAKE WIG.  
**A/N: ** Yeah, kind of dumb, but all of these have been kind of dumb, so there (yes, I'm using that as an excuse…:P)

* * *

"Ahh, Ukitake-taichou is so beautiful!"

"Such a handsome, gentle face!"

"Such long, wonderful hair!"

Those were the sorts of things Ukitake Jyuushirou often heard spoken about him by other shinigami, a multitude of compliments and awe-filled declarations that really, only served as proof that those who uttered such inanities didn't know him at all.

They didn't know how the beauty he was always praised for had often gotten him called insulting names in his youth, or how his handsome face had earned him offers from strange men in alleyways who held out candy and presents to him and always made him want to run off in the other direction as fast as his frail body would allow.

And they definitely didn't know about how his hair looked like knotted rope in the mornings when he woke up or how it tended to get caught on things like trees or plants as well as clothing or jewelry. They didn't know the indignities of having to stand patiently by for a half hour while someone (like a vice-captain) puzzled out the tangles his hair would get itself into around the branch of a cherry tree. They didn't know about his indignant squawks when he was walking along and was suddenly yanked forcibly back by a strand that had managed to wind itself around some errant shrubbery or the yelp of pain he would emit whenever his hair would get caught in doors behind him. They didn't know that he sometimes had to draw his zanpakutou at special angles so as not to slice off his own locks or how he had to toss his head frequently in order to get it out of his face in the heat of battle.

Half the time he was tempted to just chop it all off and be done with it. Shave his head bald and walk around like Madarame and never have to think about it again.

On windy autumn days like today, he wanted nothing more in the world than to take his zanpakutou and just…off with it all.

And he would have done it too, would have done it _years_ ago, except that…

One day, off-handedly, a smiling Shiba Kaien had told him that he really liked taichou's hair.

And so he didn't cut it, half out of mourning for his lost subordinate and half out of some lingering inability to put his dead vice-captain to rest.

Thus, here he was, out in the cool fall weather, a captain of the fearsome Gotei-13 with… leaves stuck in his hair.

Ukitake hoped Kaien was happy, wherever he was.

The bastard.

**END**


	45. Scary Face

**45. **

**Title: ** Scary Face  
**Rating:** PG (slight, almost-not-there yuri)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **YoruichixSoi Fong-ish  
**Word Count: **221  
**Warning/s: **Short enough to be inconsequential, but some backstory for Yoruichi and Soi Fong if you haven't gotten that far yet…  
**Summary:** Soi Fong doesn't take kindly to beauty tips.  
**Dedication: **Kelly, who still managed to be cute as Soi at AX even though she's a little bit scary. :P Also, thanks for letting me mooch. thumbs up  
**A/N: ** So this kind of stems from when we were at the Maya Sakamoto concert at AX and Kelly was policing the aisles like she was gonna knife the first bastard she saw with their cellphone out. It was cute. XD

* * *

Everyone suspected that the second division captain could very well be quite pretty if she smiled more.

And they would have told her as such too, if it hadn't been for the fact that anyone who had done so in the past ended up staggering into the fourth division infirmary with some rather nasty thinks like sucking chest wounds or oozing lacerations all over his or her body.

And so they learned to let her stalk around Soul Society scowling like she was going to murder the next bastard that rounded the corner in front of her (which she probably was going to do anyway), and only whispered about her striking good looks when they were certain she couldn't hear them.

The fact that she could glower so fiercely and still be that pretty was absolutely mystifying, after all. So mystifying in fact, that it began to be considered one of those home-grown types of legends, a Soul Society urban myth, so to speak.

The beautiful girl with the scary face.

It made Yoruichi laugh to herself and shake her head, all of it only serving to give her another reason to gloat.

She prided herself in being one of the very, very few people in all of existence who knew how truly beautiful Soi Fong could be when she smiled.

**END**


	46. Please State Your Reason For Applying

**46. **

**Title: **Please State Your Reason for Applying  
**Rating:** PG-13 (shounen-ai hints)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Very slight GanjyuxHanatarou  
**Word Count: **788 (OMG why so long all of a sudden!)  
**Warning/s: **Mini spoilers for the Soul Society Arc, and some OOC weirdness. Yes.  
**Summary:** Ganjyu wants to do it because… um… yeah.  
**Dedication: **Jen, for taking us out today and driving me to my uncle's and I'm sorry for all the trouble I cause.  
**A/N: ** Kind of an all-over-the-place drabble…I had a set goal for it but then others worked themselves into it and so now it's just a hodgepodge of randomness with a theme you have to look kind of hard for. Blah.

* * *

"So, why do you want to become a shinigami?" the interviewer asked imperiously, glancing down briefly at Ganjyu's application papers.

The youngest Shiba bit back the reflexive retort concerning his natural supremacy to the shitty-shinigami and said instead, "cuz my aniki was a great one, and I know I could be great too."

That was a half-assed reason if any, but he couldn't really put words to his true motive behind wanting to join up all of a sudden, because it was really that…all of a sudden.

His neesan said she had a pretty good idea of what was up with her idiot little brother 'all of a sudden' but wouldn't explain any further than that, smoking on her pipe instead and changing the subject to inquire about Hanatarou's health, which Ganjyu always assured her was fine despite the runt always looking like he was on the brink of death (he really didn't understand why she kept asking the same questions over and over again, geez…).

But anyway, he wasn't really sure himself why he wanted to be a shinigami, especially since he'd hated them for so long. He thought maybe it had something to do with the fact that after hearing the real story behind Kaien's death, he couldn't really be justified in hating all the shinigami anymore, especially after having spent time with ones that were okay, like Ichigo (even though he was an asshole), and Hanatarou (even though the kid was a runt who couldn't look after himself and would probably need Ganjyu's constant protection once he got accepted). But yeah, he couldn't hate shinigami anymore because they weren't _completely_ responsible for his brother's death.

It was the Hollows' fault, he supposed. And so…as a man who hated the Hollows that killed his brother, the most logical thing to do would be to join the ranks of those that killed the Hollows, right?

Right. So here he was.

Hanatarou said it was a very noble endeavor and hoped that Ganjyu would be successful in all his aims. The little brat also made note of how Ganjyu could come to him whenever he needed so that Hanatarou could take care of the various injuries that Ganjyu would undoubtedly garner along the way.

He'd thwapped the twerp for even insinuating that he'd get hurt a lot. Didn't he have any faith in Ganjyu?

And the brat had apologized and laughed feebly and said that if that were the case, they probably wouldn't see each other at all ever, since Ganjyu was going to be so strong and never get injured and never have cause to come visit.

Ganjyu had thwapped him again and asked him what god had made a rule against just regular visits anyway, and announced to the kid that he could come see Hanatarou whenever he damn well pleased, 'cuz really, someone had to watch out for the runt, especially since so many of the other shinigami liked to pick on him so damn much, and why was he such an easy target anyway?

"Is that the only reason you want to join the Gotei-13?" the examiner asked, interrupting Ganjyu's thoughts. The other man arched a haughty eyebrow at the youngest Shiba, making Ganjyu want to sort of punch him in the face a lot.

But that would have been bad, so he opted to try and find another reason instead. "Uh…well… I uh…"

The sound of the door opening behind him gave both he and the interviewer pause to turn around as an adjutant scurried in, carrying a letter with a wax seal bearing the mark of the fourth division.

Ganjyu blinked at it dumbly as it was handed to the interviewer with some hushed whispers on the messenger's part, before that person departed and the interviewer began to read.

"Hmmm…I see…I see…"

"What?" Ganjyu demanded, despite himself.

The other man looked up briefly at the would-be shinigami. "It seems that you've just received a recommendation of the highest order to be allowed admittance into the academy. It's from Unohana-taichou herself," he told Shiba, sounding like he didn't quite believe it either.

"Huh…really?"

"Aa… it seems she felt the need to write on your behalf for exemplary heroism and care taken towards one of her subordinates during the fiasco with the ryoka as well as lately…"

Ganjyu blinked. "Lately?"

"Well then, I suppose that settles it…" the shinigami announced, setting the letter down on the table. "Welcome to the academy."

"Eh? Really!"

The other man nodded.

Ganjyu broke out into a smile. "Yes!" he cheered, before turning around and heading out the door without a second thought or backward glance.

A little while later, Hanatarou was the first to know the good news.

**END**


	47. Eleven Reasons Why I Hate You

**47. **

**A/N: **This drabble wouldn't let me do some essential coding/formatting for story necessary effects, so if you want to read it, it's over on my lj. The link is: http/ www. livejournal. com/ users/ peroxidepest17 / 85140. html #cutid2 (just remove the spaces).

The drabble Info is as follows:

**Title:** Eleven Reasons Why I Hate You  
**Rating:** PG-13 for bad touch mentions?  
**Pairing/Character/s:** light IchigoxIshida  
**Word Count:** 390  
**Warning/s:** No spoilers, but lots of stupid.  
**Summary:** Ichigo and Ishida can't stand each other.  
**Dedication:** Triste, 'cuz I feel bad for making her feel like a bitch yesterday (EVEN THOUGH SHE HAS NO REASON TO FEEL THAT WAY). :P And because she wouldn't make a request but I wanted to write something for her anyway, and yeah, I'm dumb. ;;  
**A/N:** Obviously I am a world of not-funny. Especially since I made up a word and was too lazy to change it into a real one and leave me alone. And yeah, I don't know if it's correct grammatically or if I contradict myself or just make a big ass of myself or something, but I'm tired dammit.

* * *

For those of you not interested in IchixIshi, please disregard this section. :) 


	48. Statistical Anomaly

**48. **

**Title: **Statistical Anomaly  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **hinted at ShuuheixYumichika, ShunsuixJyuushirou, RenjixByakuya, GinxKira, Matsumoto, Nanao, Nemu  
**Word Count: **398  
**Warning/s: **Silliness, but not spoilery.  
**Summary:** Three female vice-captains try to figure out what's wrong with them.   
**Dedication: **Vinnie, for dinner. Thx! XD  
**A/N: ** This comes from me realizing that there aren't really a lot of girls in seireitei… and yeah, I know the timeline's all screwy, but this is just silliness, so don't think on it too much.

* * *

"I just don't get it," Matsumoto sighed, eyeing Hisagi and Ayasekawa as they walked side by side, the latter practically hanging off the slightly blushing former.

Nanao adjusted her glasses and followed the other woman's line of sight. "Don't get what?"

"Well… there's nothin' wrong with us, right? I mean, we're pretty damn hot, I think. But all the guys… well…" To illustrate, she tilted her chin in the direction of a stoic Shuuhei and his happily blabbering Yumichika, who both stopped and stood at attention as they happened to pass an equally stoic Ukitake-taichou and his happily blabbering Kyouraku-taichou. "…they're all… _you know_."

"I don't think it's a matter of something being wrong with us, per say…" Nemu started quietly, looking down at her lap in that quietly embarrassed manner of hers.

Ise nodded and tucked a long bang behind her ear. "The odds are just against us, if you look at it statistically."

The blonde blinked. "Huh?"

"Well, if you look at the captains and vice-captains alone," Nanao began, flipping to a blank page in her notebook, "there are twenty-six…no, twenty-seven technically, captains and vice-captains. Of the captains, two of thirteen are female. Of the vice-captains, seven of well, fourteen are female. Combined, that's nine out of twenty-seven officers being female."

"Only a third," Nemu agreed softly.

Matsumoto sighed. "Yeah? So?"

"Those ratios stand through all the ranks in seireitei, roughly," Nanao illustrated. "So when you think of it that way… there's the possibility that the males don't have…well, options, I suppose. Which might explain the…um, _you know._"

Matsumoto smirked. "Yeah? That theory'd only hold if _we already had guys first_, Nanao," she pointed out flippantly. "And last I checked, I'm all on my own. How 'bout you two?"

Looking sheepish, both nodded their heads in agreement.

"Well then? Got any other theories?" the tenth division vice-chair questioned as she caught sight of Renji whispering something into Kuchiki-taichou's ear when he thought no one was looking. The sixth division captain's cheeks turned slightly pink, and they disappeared out of the quad together quickly.

Matsumoto rolled her eyes at the image before turning back expectantly to Ise and Kurotsuchi. "You two absolutely _sure_ there's nothing wrong with us?"

The other women remained pensively silent.

Behind them, they could hear Kira Izuru's frustrated whimpers as Ichimaru-taichou cornered him in a back alley for the third time that afternoon.

**END**


	49. Cuz We're Family

**49. **

**Title: **'Cuz We're Family  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Ikkaku, HisagixAyasekawa in the background  
**Word Count:** 577  
**Warning/s: **OOC and kind of dumb, plus some mild, tiny spoilers for chapter 156 I think it is?  
**Summary:** Ikkaku likes to watch out for his teammates.  
**Dedication: **Francis, 'cuz he's my big brother. XD  
**A/N: ** Yes, I persist in seeing the eleventh division as a big, happy, dysfunctional family. This takes that even a step further. --;;

* * *

Ikkaku and Yumichika had been friends for long enough that even though they were both guys, Ikkaku could tell when the other man wasn't feeling great. And if he watched Ayasekawa for long enough, he could even figure out why his teammate wasn't feeling good in the first place. 

Iba teased Madarame about it until he made the big idiot shut up, but even then, Ikkaku, wasn't completely immune to Iba calling his ability "big-brother syndrome." In fact, though he wouldn't admit out loud ever, he liked to think that yeah, he was there to take care of his teammates like a good older brother should. It was sappy and kind of gay, but as long as he didn't say it out loud he figured he should be okay.

That being said, Madarame watched as Yumichika sighed wistfully and glanced at the door like he expected a certain someone to burst through any second now. And when that someone didn't, Yumichika frowned to himself, shook his head, and tried to get back to work.

After the five-hundredth occurrence of such a pattern, Ikkaku couldn't help but step in. "Oi…Yumi… somethin' uh…somethin' wrong?"

"Mmm?" the fifth chair looked up from his mission report distractedly. "Wrong?"

"Well, not to say I noticed or anythin', but ya keep sighin' and lookin' at the door like you're waitin' for somethin' to happen…"

Yumichika blinked. "Am I?"

"Yeah."

"Oh…sorry, Ikkaku…it's just that…" the other man bit his bottom lip and looked away. "Never mind, it's nothing, really."

"It got somethin' to do with boy-toy?" The answering expression on Yumichika's face told him he'd hit the nail on the head. "What'd he do now?"

"No, it's nothing, really," Ayasekawa persisted. "Just…" he trailed off again, shaking his head, looking thoughtfully sad.

Yumichika _never_ looked thoughtfully sad.

Feeling indignant for his teammate, Ikkaku cracked his knuckles. "Oi… he do somethin' stupid? Do I need to kick his ass or somethin'? 'Cuz I'll do it, ya know. No problem. Just say the word."

Yumichika took a moment to look mildly bemused at the third-chair's belligerence on his behalf. "Well… it wasn't…_stupid_ exactly…"

Which meant it was, exactly. "I mean it, Yumi. I wasn't joking. I'll kick the bastard's ass if he did anything to make you sad. Just say the word…"

"No…don't worry about it," the fifth chair persisted, tucking his hair primly behind his ear. "It's really not that big a deal."

Somehow, Ikkaku doubted that. "Ya sure?"

"Un. Anyway, I was planning to give him a few more hours," Ayasekawa informed his teammate, sitting up a little straighter with the vocalization of his resolve. "Then…"

"Then?"

Yumichika smiled bewitchingly. "Then…I'll kick his ass _myself_."

Ikkaku grinned. "Yeah? Okay then."

The cause might have been that so-called big-brother syndrome or whatever, but sometimes Ikkaku had to be reminded that the eleventh division wasn't only the strongest division in seireitei, but also the most close-knit. And under the paternal care of Zaraki-taichou, it could only be said that none of his apples really fell far from that particular big, bloodthirsty tree.

And being that the other man was a member of the eleventh division as well, Ikkaku, when he thought about it, was pretty sure Yumi could kick his boy-toy's butt (again) if he needed to, all by himself.

Though, Madarame still planned to be there for Ayasekawa when Hisagi got his ass handed back to him, just in case.

Yeah. Just in case.

Heh.

**END**


	50. Defiler

**50. **

**Title: **Defiler  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s:** RenjixByakuya  
**Word Count:** 666 (would ya look at that? O.o)  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, though timeline wise this is probably set long after Soul Society. Oh, and there's some porn, by the way.  
**Summary:** The Kuchiki household will never forgive Renji for what he's done.  
**Dedication: **Christine and JaB. You know why.  
**A/N: ** OMG The big fifty. Obviously this has carried on for FAR too long. Yet I keep going anyway. --;; But yeah, I felt the need to write something vaguely pornographic, cuz going through the last forty-nine works, I find that only one of them is really…coughcough you knowcoughcough. So, what better way to celebrate fifty than with pron? YAY!

* * *

Renji gets dirty looks from those members of the Kuchiki household that _truly _lived there whenever he walks the hallways alone, the cowards being too, well… cowardly… to look up at either he or Byakuya when they walk the halls together. The bastards.

It is only when that "uncouth street-rat" or that "lewd beggar" or the "riffraff who has despoiled great Kuchiki-sama" is alone in the walkways that they dare look at him, eyes accusatory and full of loathing.

And it never fails to put Renji in a bad mood, makes him want to just go back to the ranks in the barracks even though he is supposed to be on vacation. As he nears Byakuya's room, he thinks to himself that he never should've let his captain convince him to come spend the time here.

"Renji, your face looks unpleasant. What's the matter?"

The sound of Byakuya's voice stirs him as he throws the screen door open and storms in without so much as a knock, scowling fiercely. "Yeah well…" he trails off abruptly when he sees his captain looking back at him from where he's sitting, freshly dressed in a pretty little yukata that probably cost more than all the things Renji's ever purchased in his life.

"Well, what?" Byakuya asks, voice softening slightly as he recognizes the mystified look in Abarai's eyes.

"Nothing," Renji responds hungrily, easily forgetting his ire in light of something much more thought consuming. Two strides take the redhead across the room and one pull undoes the flimsy ties that hold that yukata together.

And soon thereafter the sixth division vice-captain is reminded of why he's here during a rare vacation in the first place, tolerating the looks of disgust and suspicion in the legendary Kuchiki household. He's here for the warmth and the sighs in his ear, for the sweaty, messy, sticky, wet sensation of sex as he fucks his captain half-dressed, the light fabric of his clothing only half off the older man's shoulders as he takes him on his back, the door still half open so that those arrogant little bastards that stalk the halls can look in at any moment and see exactly what Renji's doing to their esteemed Kuchiki-sama, their beloved heir whose legs are currently up in the air as he moans as loud as a Rukongai whore for more.

Renji remembers that he's here because this street-rat, this beggar, this riffraff, is the only one that can do _this_ to the great Kuchiki-sama, the only one who's had him panting and crying out, who's left angry red marks on his chest and neck, who's had him on his back and on his stomach and on his side and sometimes upside down and sometimes standing up, right against a wall with the door wide open.

They can hate him for this all they want, but Renji knows he's the only one that will ever have his hands on Kuchiki Byakuya like he does now, fingers threaded through that billion-dollar hair, making a mess of it as his hips roll forward in a rhythm that has the house's most beloved son thrashing and shaking and clinging to him around the now sweaty mess of his yukata.

"Nn…. Renji…you…"

"For now, just say my name," Renji murmurs in Byakuya's ear before biting down on that perfect white neck. "That's the only word I wanna hear out of you until we're through." And Abarai grins, tightening his grip on the other man's hips as he does. "All right?"

"Aaah…hah… as you wish… Renji…"

Renji rewards him by fucking him so hard he can't walk the next day.

That forces Abarai to stroll the halls of the Kuchiki household alone again come morning, but this time, when the inhabitants stop to glare at him, he smirks back and asks if he can get more ice delivered to Kuchiki-taichou's room, as he's been very recently incapacitated.

The looks on their faces when they hear _that_ is absolutely priceless.

**END**


	51. Fucked

**51. **

**Title: **Fucked  
**Rating:** PG-13 for yaoi and language.  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 611  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the ninth division's part of the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Sort-of follow-up to drabble #49- Shuuhei is screwed.  
**Dedication: **To all the other HisagixAyasekawa fans (you're out there somewhere, right?) who can't find any good fic with this pairing either.  
**A/N: ** Because I needed some cuteness after PORN.

* * *

Shuuhei knew when he was fucked. 

Today, he was fucked. And each minute that passed during the course of the afternoon meant that he was a little bit more fucked than he'd been the minute before.

He glared at the stack of paperwork that had been placed on his desk just after lunch, finding it entirely at fault for his current predicament.

Well, maybe not entirely. When he thought about it, he should have noticed something this morning as he was getting dressed, what with the way Yumichika had been humming as he'd made their breakfast.

But Shuuhei wanted to write off his denseness from this morning on the fact that he'd been severely overworked the past few months, considering the whole fiasco with his captain abandoning the division and the fact that he was currently in charge of _both_ the captain's and vice-captain's duties until the situation could be resolved.

So yeah, he was overworked. And as such, Ayasekawa couldn't _possibly_ expect him to remember _everything_ considering his hectic schedule. He had enough problems remembering his own name as of late sometimes.

In light of all that, Yumi would _have_ to forgive him for momentarily forgetting their anniversary today, right?

Knowing his lover…

Shuuhei sighed as another minute ticked by.

…he was fucked.

Yumichika could have just come out and _reminded_ him this morning before he'd left, but noooo, the sentimental idiot had packed him a special lunch today instead, complete with a little love-note that wished him a good day and a happy anniversary.

Which only served to make Shuuhei feel like an _ass_.

And now the evening was drawing on and he still had work that _couldn't wait until tomorrow_ and Yumi was probably getting pouty and angsty and would soon be nearing the realm of pissy and Shuuhei, Shuuhei was fucked.

Hisagi hoped to any god that was listening that Ayasekawa didn't reach the point of crying. Especially in front of Kenpachi.

"Ah, Hisagi-sir?"

Shuuhei looked up as an administrative aide knocked tentatively on his open office door. "Yes?"

"Uh, these requisition forms just came from the lower ranks and Yamamoto-taichou has sent…"

Shuuhei gaped incredulously. More forms… more forms and it was nearly dinner time and each minute that passed meant that Shuuhei could see more of his life flashing before his eyes, could see Yumi's tears and accusations and his bad habit of throwing things at Shuuhei's head when he was mad. He could see it all and yet, there were still _more forms_. He was becoming more and more fucked by the minute and soon he'd just be dead, because Yumi would KILL him and then the rest of the eleventh division would mangle his body and… "ARGH!"

"Uh…Hisagi-fukutaichou? Is something the matter?"

"Tomorrow!" Shuuhei announced, standing up and pushing himself forcibly away from his desk. "It all has to wait until tomorrow!"

"But sir… I have express orders from Yamamoto-taichou that all the forms he sent need to be signed by each division captain and returned to his office by…"

"I'm not the captain," Hisagi said coolly, pushing his chair under the desk and picking up the love-note Yumi had written for him earlier. "And until I'm either made one or given a new one, those papers won't be in Yamamoto-taichou's office on time, I'm afraid," he announced with some resolve, folding the note into his pocket before pushing around the dumbfounded messenger on his way out. "I'm leaving for the night."

On his way back, in the hopes of being slightly less fucked than he already was, Shuuhei made a hasty detour into Rukongai to buy a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers.

**END**


	52. Silence Is

**52. **

**Title: **Silence Is…  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s:** slight ChadxIshida  
**Word Count:** 486  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers as far as I can tell…  
**Summary:** Chad doesn't talk a lot. But that's okay.  
**Dedication: **Ann, 'cuz this is her favorite Bleach pairing. Mwahahahahaha WIN.  
**A/N: ** So, this was sort of inspired by that _split-second_ frame with Chad and Ishida that was in the new ep 39 ending… they were _so on a date._

_

* * *

_

Ishida was reading, so by all laws of nature, Sado figured it should have been a relatively quiet day between them. Except it was Ishida, so very naturally, it wasn't.

"Well that's clearly impossible," the Quincy scoffed, looking disdainfully at the book in his lap before adjusting his glasses and looking up at Chad from the bench he was sitting on. "Did you get to this part yet?" He held out the book.

Chad cocked his head to the side and read the page number. "Not yet."

"Well, let me just say, it's clearly…"

"Impossible?"

"Exactly. I mean, of course us being us, we've seen impossible things happen, but this is _so_ impossible that I think even people like us would have trouble trying to imagine it as a possibility yet the book just keeps going on and on and on and on like it's an everyday occurrence and the author must assume that if he or she is vague enough about it all the audience won't think about it anymore and figure out that it's _clearly_ impossible. I suppose he or she wasn't counting on people like us ever picking up this book and giving it a look though because then he or she wouldn't have included something so glaringly impossible. And now that I think about it, I suppose it's our own fault for even thinking of picking up something like this and having any sort of positive expectation regarding it being realistic, don't you think, Sado?"

"…yes."

Happy to have his companion agree with him so readily, Ishida smiled back and resumed reading anyway, as it was a weekend and the weather was nice and he believed that it was good sometimes, to just sit outside in the sun on a quiet weekend with someone else and share something like a book, even if there was something in that book that was clearly impossible.

And this was how they spent the afternoon, Sado concentrating on what was nice and allowing Ishida to concentrate on what was impossible. Letting what would otherwise be a quiet day spent by Ishida's side become one full of the other boy's excited chatter, Sado smiled quietly to himself and listened to every word because he didn't think that the Quincy's voice was not-nice sounding. It was something that he felt was nice, and thus, okay to concentrate on.

So, as long as Ishida didn't mind Chad's quietness as he thought about nice things, Chad wouldn't mind his talkativeness as the Quincy explained impossible ones, first because it was unlikely that he could shut the smaller boy up even if he wanted to, and second because Chad didn't think it was bad at all to listen to him. In fact, it was kind of nice, out here on a sunny weekend with nothing to do but spend some time together and share something like a book full of impossibilities.

**END**


	53. Puppy!

**53. **

**Title: **Puppy!**  
Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Kenpachi  
**Word Count:** 174  
**Warning/s: **Some… urination?  
**Summary:** Continuation of sorts of drabble #35 (Empty Nest)- Kenpachi vs. Puppy.  
**Dedication: **Kelly, who loves her dogs a _lot._  
**A/N: ** You know it's a bad sign when I start continuing my own stuff like it's canon. O.o

* * *

Kenpachi has been peed on. 

The _captain of the eleventh division_ has pee staining his shoes and socks.

He glares murderously at the culprit, a black and white little blob of fur that Ikkaku brought back one day as a present.

His name is Pochi.

Pochi has peed on Kenpachi's leg.

Kenpachi snarls at Pochi, bending down so they're nose to nose. He wonders if it would be wrong to kill the little bastard while no one's looking.

Pochi looks back at Kenpachi with his tongue hanging out of its mouth, not only completely unafraid of the most feared shinigami captain in seireitei but also unrepentant for having peed all over him.

Kenpachi stares at the dog for a while, and before long, Pochi yawns right in Zaraki's face before he gives a little yip, like he's bored with the shinigami's posturing and demands some sort of action.

After a while, Kenpachi sighs and stands up, taking Pochi in his arms.

He decides that the little bastard will fit into eleventh division just fine.

**END**


	54. Like a Fox

**54. **

**Title: **Like a Fox  
**Rating:** PG-15 for nudity?  
**Pairing/Character/s:** GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 333 (okay, that's weird now…)  
**Warning/s: **Um…some nonsensical-ness ahead?  
**Summary:** Kira believes in his captain's brilliance.  
**Dedication: **Nicole, because one should always fangirl her captain, even if said captain shafts her. XD  
**A/N: ** Don't ask me to explain it, it doesn't make sense to me either…

* * *

When asked, everyone in the third division would say that their captain is "Quirky, bordering on insane." Well, everyone except for vice-captain Kira Izuru, who is too devoted to Ichimaru to call him anything other than a good leader and a brilliant captain. 

And he really believes it too, because how else could someone who does the things that Ichimaru-taichou does become a captain? There's simply no way that such a man would become one of the foremost leaders of this lofty institution if his crazy actions weren't really a sign of genius.

So Izuru is convinced that Gin is merely playing some sort of skillful game with the rest of the world that it just doesn't get yet. His captain is always doing the least expected thing at the least expected moment in order to keep all of the shinigami in seireitei on their toes.

Kira thinks that Ichimaru is a brilliant man.

Because he knows that a man who sometimes chooses to walk through his division headquarters completely nude, acting like it is the most normal thing in the world, can either be crazy or a genius.

And Kira's absolutely certain that crazy people aren't allowed to become division captains here in Soul Society.

So while all the rest of the third division stands and gapes at their naked captain in shock, Kira simply follows after Ichimaru-taichou with his captain's clothes folded neatly in his arms, ready for the moment that Gin should require them again.

And when Gin asks Kira to join him, he dutifully strips down and follows with only a slight blush on his cheeks.

That being done, Ichimaru's smile widens marginally and without missing a beat, he grabs Kira's arm and pushes him up against a wall and there they are in the middle of the main hall of division headquarters, Gin's lips fastened unapologetically to Kira's throat.

The rest of the third division sees this and thinks that their captain is completely crazy.

Kira knows better.

**END**


	55. A Little Something From Me To You

**55. **

**Title: **A Little Something From Me To You  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** IchigoxRukia, Byakuya  
**Word Count:** 588  
**Warning/s: **Some minute Soul Society Arc spoilers.  
**Summary:** Byakuya has to let Rukia go.  
**Dedication:** Yoshi, for comforting me when I found out I couldn't eat Korean food tonight. ;;  
**A/N: ** So this was inspired by the ichiruki community's "100 themes" thing going on right now… I used: #78- sister complex. Or at least, I think I did. Does this count? Meh.

* * *

After nearly losing his sister once, Kuchiki Byakuya vowed that in the future, he would destroy anyone who dared to hurt her or make her cry.

But he was learning that sometimes the vows he made needed to have some sort of loophole, because if they didn't, he would follow them to the letter and end up doing some very stupid things, like last time.

So he didn't kill Kurosaki where he stood because even though Rukia was crying, Byakuya was pretty sure those tears weren't out of sadness and that if he did the groom any harm upon the cusp of his becoming a husband, the bride-to-be would be very unhappy with her brother and probably cry for real such that, according to his vow, Kuchikii Byakuya would be committing seppuku in a dark corner somewhere in the near future, forever stigmatized with the ignominious title of brother-to-be-slayer.

So instead he grit his teeth and petted Rukia's arm awkwardly, telling her not to cry because the ladies of the house had spent so much time making her up and would be cross with her for ruining it so soon into the ceremony.

But she wasn't even really listening to him so much as looking ahead at her loudmouthed idiot as he fidgeted in his formal clothing, uncomfortable with all the eyes that were on the two of them.

Byakuya was still wary of giving his precious little sister away to such an uncouth boor, though he allowed that Kurosaki was a passably competent shinigami and a better choice than a lot of the suitors that had come knocking, if he was pressed for compliments.

But this particular moment wasn't about compliments so much as it was about Byakuya's reluctance to let go of his sister's hand when they finished their walk and came upon Kurosaki. He knew that as an older brother as well as the head of the Kuchiki household, that he would have had to do it someday, but those facts didn't make the reality of it any less daunting, knowing that his sister would willingly leave his house and go into that of another.

But today had been a long time in coming when he thought about it, when he remembered watching her wait for years for this idiot to come here, to be a part of the same world. And now that he finally was, it shouldn't have been surprising that this day was upon them, and that Byakuya would be forced to take the hand of the little sister whom he had watched over for so long and place her into another's care.

"Nii-sama?"

Her voice, stirring him from his own thoughts, forced the sixth division captain to remove the furrow from his brow and look a little more dignified, though he supposed he couldn't find it in himself to be happy even with the smile she bestowed upon him, those two crystalline tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. "Yes, Rukia?"

"It's time to let go, Nii-sama."

"Of course."

Taking her hand, he reluctantly placed it into Kurosaki's, and with a meaningful look, let this man who was taking his sister away know something very important.

Though she would no longer be in his care, Kuchiki Byakuya let Kurosaki Icihgo know that he would still kill any man that made his sister cry for sorrow.

It was only when Kurosaki's eyes answered with a promise that said the same did Byakuya finally allow himself to let go of Rukia's hand.

**END**


	56. What's Wrong With You

**56.**

**Title: **What's Wrong With You  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** no specific mentions, draw your own conclusions from drabble #48? But Matsumoto, Nanao, Nemu, and Histugaya are in it.  
**Word Count:** 221  
**Warning/s: **OOCness  
**Summary:** Continuation of Drabble #48 (Statistical Anomaly)- Hitsugaya answers the girls' questions.  
**Dedication:** JaB, the Hitsugaya fangirl.  
**A/N: ** I got an idea in the middle of class today, which meant I didn't SLEEP in class 'cuz I was thinking on it, but that doesn't really help since I didn't LISTEN to lecture because of it anyway.

* * *

Hitsugaya frowned, stepping out into the quad and seeing his vice-captain, along with Ise and Kurotsuchi, lounging around on the grass ogling the guy on guy action _again_, those same wistful looks on their faces as always.

He had work that needed to be done, dammit.

And shelves he couldn't reach, but that didn't need to be brought up specifically.

Stalking over, he realized they were having another one of those "What's wrong with us? Woe is me," sessions that girls sometimes liked to have when they were alone and surrounded by gay guys. He fought back the urge to roll his eyes at it because people said he looked like a little kid when he did it and he was _so not._

Instead, he stopped short, right in front of them, and very methodically pointed at each one in turn.

Kurotsuchi. "Scary dad."

Ise. "Scary face."

And finally, Matsumoto. "Scary childhood friend. Or scary chest, either one." That said, the tenth division captain spun imperiously on his heel. "Now let's go, Matsumoto. There's something…I need you to get for me."

Looking dumbfounded, the tenth division vice-captain hastily stood. "Uh… yessir."

Nanao and Nemu watched them go.

"Um…Hitsugaya-taichou isn't…_you know_ too, is he?" Kurotsuchi asked, quietly.

Nanao's glasses gleamed as she glared after the young captain. "No, but he's still young."

**END**


	57. Things Left Behind

**57. **

**Title: **Things Left Behind  
**Rating:** R for bloody…stuff.   
**Pairing/Character/s:** GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 579  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc, and general ickyness.  
**Summary:** Kira cherishes the few things Gin left him.  
**Dedication:** jadeprince, 'cuz she likes Emo-Kira.  
**A/N: ** There's something very, very wrong with me, I think.

* * *

He's got scratch marks on his back that he hopes will never heal and fade away. But they itch like they're healing and he can't retrace them perfectly with his own nails, not even in a mirror. He's tried. 

And he's got hand-shaped bruises on either side of his hips too, and as much as he wishes that those would stay forever, he knows they'll disappear with the passage of time, mere days from now and it'll look like Ichimaru-taichou never touched him there ever, though Kira knows that his captain has touched him there many, many times.

There's a long gash on his the lower half of his stomach that might leave a permanent mark if he picks at it enough, the last touch of Shinsou that he remembers on his body before Gin left him behind forever.

He keeps it from scabbing by worrying it with his fingers, scratching persistently at it with his nails in the hopes that it won't fade away because as long as he has it he won't have to remember how alone he is here without the man he would have betrayed the rest of Soul Society for, if only he'd asked him to.

The old, dried blood stuck under his nails from picking at the wounds Gin so lovingly delivered is soon joined by a fresh wave of warm liquid red, staining his hands and the white of his hakama and he doesn't want to wash either of them because that's blood from the wound Ichimaru first opened, blood from the very place that his captain fastened smiling lips and drank his fill, drank until his face and hands and sword were all covered in Kira's blood, happy and warm and aroused, right before he'd pushed the vice-captain's legs aside and eagerly drank from other parts of him.

Izuru feels like he wants to cry again for the familiar feeling of his side burning pain and oozing all over his torso. And he puts his own bloody fingers to his lips, tasting what his captain must have tasted the last time they were together, fucking on the floor of this very office.

He tries to remember every bit of the sensation, of the sound and the sight and the taste and the feel of their last time here in this room as captain and vice-captain, as superior and subordinate.

He hangs on to every memory that he can of his precious captain because now that he's gone, Kira is woefully alone in this place, alone without the familiar sensations of pain and bliss and the confused melding of those two wonderful things together that only Ichimaru knew how to give him.

And so he picks his wound until it's gushing and good as new, tasting his own blood on his hands with eyes blissfully closed. Reclining on his back, he lets the memory of Gin's breath over his bloodied flesh wash through his mind and he shudders, simultaneously distraught and aroused as he drips all over the floor.

He doesn't want these injuries to heal, to fade away, ever, because now there's no one to make them new again, to make him hurt and cry and fuck him until his vision blacks out a little around the edges like he can't breathe. Ichimaru-taichou is long gone now, and even after everything that happened, all Kira can bring himself to feel about it is that he wishes he hadn't been left behind.

**END**


	58. Mark of the Quincy

**58. **

**Title: **Mark of the Quincy  
**Rating:** PG (shounen-ai stuff)  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ChadxIshida  
**Word Count:** 303  
**Warning/s: **Fluffiness, but no spoilery.  
**Summary:** Chad doesn't think blue and white suit him.  
**Dedication:** Christine, who downloaded an entire episode of Bleach only to see the Chad and Ishida on a date frame at the ending. O.o  
**A/N: ** Me trying to redeem myself. I don't think it worked. Meh.

* * *

Chad doesn't think that blue and white are his best color combination, personally.

Not that his tastes are particularly picky when it comes to clothing considering that most of the time, if he can find clothes that _fit_ him in Japan, that's good enough for him. But the fact of the matter is that lately he has to wear clothes that are very much to the way of Ishida's tastes, and as a result, people are starting to talk.

At the same time, Sado hasn't said anything about it himself because he doesn't want to offend Ishida, who obviously works very hard to make these nice clothes for Chad, and at his own expense at that.

But after the third piece to a set of winter accessories (a blue-and-white striped muffler this time) is complete, Chad decides that maybe it's time to figure out what all of this means and takes Ishida off to the side of the school building where they can be alone.

"Um…Ishida…I don't think…blue and white are my colors?" He originally meant to ask _why_ he was the target of so many of Ishida's gifts, but those are the words he says instead, and even those come out unintentionally like a question because Ishida is smiling so warmly at him that Chad can't actually go so far as to make it a statement for fear of making the Quincy unhappy.

"I know," Ishida responds easily.

Chad blinks. "You do?"

Ishida nods and stands on his toes so he can press a soft kiss to Chad's cheek. "They're not your colors at all."

Sado blushes slightly and is glad that his bangs are there to cover his eyes. "Then…why…"

Ishida's glasses shine and he pushes them further up on his nose with a coy little smile. "Because they're _mine._"

"…oh."

**END**


	59. Bento of Love

**59. **

**Title: **Bento of Love  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichika in the far background, Iba, Kira, and Renji in the idiotic foreground.  
**Word Count:** 624  
**Warning/s: **Silliness and fluff, but nothing spoilerific.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei's gained some weight.  
**Dedication:** Those that I've somehow managed to corrupt into liking HisagixAyasekawa. I need all the support I can get. We'll spread the word, one day…  
**A/N: ** Yeah, this is really idiotic, but I had to write it because I'm convinced that foodlove.

* * *

"Uh…don't mind me for sayin' or anything senpai, but uh… you been gainin' a little weight lately?"

Shuuhei looked up indignantly from his lunch. "Excuse me?"

Renji backed up a step. "It's nothin', really! I just kinda noticed that you filled out a little, ya know? Heh…heh…"

Shuuhei glared.

"Pretend I didn't say anything?"

"Ah, leave 'im alone," Iba groused, throwing a big arm over Shuuhei's shoulders. "You punks are too skinny anyway," he chortled, flexing shamelessly. "Take a look at that, yeah?"

From beside them, Kira rolled his eyes. "Right. Solid."

"Ain't it?" Iba kissed his bicep before removing his arm from around Shuuhei's shoulders. "'Sides, the reason's obvious, yeah? Those lunches Hisagi's been packin' lately…wooo. Definitely prettier than the shit they're servin' us in the commissary."

Shuuhei held his bento box protectively to his chest when he felt all the surrounding eyes shamelessly ogling it. "It's just food," he stated around a mouthful of octopus-shaped sausage.

"Chaaaaa… he's got tako-weiners!" Renji observed, whistling appreciatively. "Oi…and are those… _bunny shaped _onions!"

Shuuhei glowered and shielded his lunch from prying eyes as best he could. "Dammit guys, I'm eating here!" he protested, almost choking on his rice.

"Ya shoulda seen it when he _opened_ it," Iba pressed shamelessly. "The rice was in the shape of a _heart_. And his pickled radishes looked like _flowers. _Ahahahaha!"

"Woooooowww," Renji and Kira both exclaimed, giving Shuuhei a rather patronizing golf-clap.

"Someone's spoiled," Abarai persisted, grinning stupidly at Hisagi. "Hey…what shape was your tamago in?"

"An egg, goddammit," Shuuhei muttered, narrowing his eyes.

"Hey, leave senpai alone," Kira started, in Shuuhei's defense.

"Thank you Ki…"

"We should respect Ayasekawa-san's bento of love after all," the blonde finished, unsuccessfully trying to hold back an amused little smile. "I'm sure he put a lot of work into it."

Everyone save Shuuhei burst out into hysterical laughter.

"Man, if that much love goes into the food, imagine what the sex must be like!" Iba snorted, slapping his leg merrily.

The ninth division vice-captain glowered dangerously at the other man. "Oi…watch it."

"We're just sayin', senpai… you'ra lucky sonuvabitch! You know how early someone's gotta get up to make food that looks that nice a_nd_ tastes any good on _our_ schedules? Che…. I mean, look at the crap we've got to deal with!" On Abarai's cue, the three vice-captains all simultaneously held out their manly plates of not-love from the commissary, each of which contained a mountain of impartial rice that appeared to be covered in an oily sauce, chunks of meat and potato swimming in it rather unpalatably. "It's only our right to get to make fun of you for bein' so spoiled."

"Yeah!"

"Agreed."

Shuuhei, feeling an oncoming blush, hunkered down a little more in his seat, looking down at his perfect bento box, which, even half-eaten, _sparkled_ in comparison to his companions' food.

"Che… it's like I said," Shuuhei began quietly, "in the end it's all just food, you idiots. No big deal," he pressed, feeling stubborn though the memory of a smiling Yumi cheerfully pecking him on the cheek before handing him his lunch this morning passed unbidden through his mind's eye.

"Yeah, just food….whatever you say senpai," Renji pushed, leering at the other two as he read Hisagi's thoughtful expression.. "Whatever you say."

Shuuhei ignored him and went back to eating; mentally cursing his own stupidity for one, somehow convincing himself that Yumi was always awake before him simply because the other man was a morning person and two, for not getting the reality of the fact until idiots like Abarai had to point it out to him first.

That night he left his office early and got home in time to make dinner for them both.

**END**


	60. Captain Complex

**60. **

**Title: **Captain Complex  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Hinamori and a surprise. Sort of.  
**Word Count:** 754  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the whole Soul Society Arc.  
**Summary:** Hinamori looks forward to a new beginning.   
**Dedication:** Greg, for trying to download yaoi porn for me earlier today. Friends are awesome, man.  
**A/N: ** This is kind of a mix between an angst idea and a crack idea I had, that I was too lazy to separate into different fics. So here you have it, a hybrid monstrosity of mixed emotion.

* * *

Hinamori frowns to herself in the mirror and decides to let her hair down today, instead of keeping it in that orderly little bun of hers, the one she always wore because Aizen-taichou had given her the cloth to tie it into when he'd spied it troubling her by constantly coming loose and getting into her eyes.

Aizen-taichou had always liked things neat and orderly like that after all, and Hinamori had always done her level best to keep things that way for him because she wanted to be the best vice-captain she could be despite her young age.

But nowadays she finds herself feeling less inclined to do things like she used to. Nowadays she sort of wants to forget the person she used to be and let her hair down, wants to wear her vice-captain insignia on some silly place like her neck or across her hips or right on top of her chest. She wants to file paperwork out of order or maybe even turn it in late and with smudges too.

Because the more she thinks on Aizen-taichou and how he liked to do things when he was here, the more she wants to hate all of those things and do the exact opposite. And it's hard, because she did them that way for so long and she loved him so much. But she believes that if she makes a conscious effort to do it for a while, those old habits she formed under Aizen's tutelage will slowly wear off so that eventually, she won't care about him as much as she does.

And she thinks that today is as good a day as any to start because the announcement has come in through all of seireitei that until permanent replacements can be found, three temporary captains will be taking the place of those who left their posts.

Hinamori tells herself to look forward to it because this means a new start with someone else, and she can't help but hope that her new captain, temporary as he or she might be, will be the exact opposite of Aizen-taichou because that will make everything so much easier for her.

She hopes that he's loud and rude and disorganized and talkative and a little unkempt. She hopes that he chortles when he laughs and he snores when he sleeps and his bankai involves loud explosions and bright flashes of light.

Because if he's all of the things that Aizen-taichou wasn't, then she can start becoming someone who isn't always trying to chase after Aizen-taichou. She can have a fresh start.

A loud knock on the door brings her back to the present time, and a voice calling, "Hinamori-fukutaichou?" alerts her to the arrival of her new beginning.

"Ah yes, one minute!" she calls back, running her fingers through her hair and discarding her ties on the table before rushing forward to open the door.

She throws it open and there is a messenger standing with a formal announcement in hand, her temporary captain looming behind him, looking uncomfortable in his new, heavy white-coat.

"Hinamori Momo, vice-captain of the fifth division of the Gotei-13, I present to you the acting captain of the fifth division as of now…"

Though she hadn't met this person herself during all of the chaos, she gasps when she sees him anyway, because all it takes is one look for her to know. She knows all of the stories already, has heard good and bad and amazing words associated with the young man she sees standing before her.

He's loud. He's rude. He's a punk who doesn't respect the rules, an idiot who runs blindly into situations without thinking. He's so strong that he's defeated two captains by himself. His bankai caused so much damage to seireitei that they're still rebuilding parts of it now, many months after the Kuchiki-ordeal.

He's everything she could have hoped for.

And before she can stop herself, she throws herself forward gratefully, past the bewildered messenger and right into Kurosaki Ichigo.

Ichigo completely freaks when Hinamori launches herself at him without missing a beat, wrapping her little arms around his waist and smiling up at him with tears in her great big adorable eyes. "Kurosaki-taichou, welcome!"

"Erm…thanks?"

She beams back at his inelegant greeting. "Thank you…you're exactly what I need. Thank you."

"Uhm…you're…welcome, I guess."

Ichigo pats her back awkwardly as she embraces him and thinks that maybe he should have opted to get a real job for the summer instead.

**END **


	61. The Alternative Talk

**61. **

**Title: **The Alternative Talk  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Isshin, Ichigo+Ishida mentions  
**Word Count:** 780  
**Warning/s: **Father crack. Slight spoiler for chapter 184.  
**Summary:** On the dawn of his son's 16th birthday, Isshin makes a special effort to impart important knowledge upon a growing Ichigo.  
**Dedication:** Beck, thx for dinner and the help! That makes a shitty week better.  
**A/N: **I know, it's late (at least on but better now than never, right? Yes.

* * *

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ICHIGO!" 

Dodge left. Dodge right. Sit up.

Rub eyes, groan.

Punch Isshin in the chin.

"Whaddya want, you perverted old man?" Ichigo grunted, cracking an eye reluctantly open. "It's too early for this!"

Having his face smashed against the far wall of his son's closet wasn't enough to deter Isshin's good mood. "As expected from a son of mine!" the physician exclaimed, jumping to his feet like he hadn't just been flung across the room by an irate 16-year old first. "It's good to stay sharp, especially as you get older, my boy!"

Ichigo eyed his father, still half asleep. "Mur?"

Isshin gaped at his son's blank expression. "OH NO!"

Ichigo decided that six am was too damn early for this stupidity and laid back down, drawing his sheets over his head. "Go away."

"Don't tell me you forgot!"

"I _know_ it's my birthday," he ground out as he forcibly shut his eyes. "But it's too damn early, ya shitty old man!"

Isshin crossed his arms, standing at attention in front of Ichigo's bed. "But today is a SPECIAL birthday, Ichigo! It's never too early for that!"

Knowing when his father wouldn't be dissuaded until he'd said his piece; the now-sixteen-year-old opened one eye. "Why?"

"Because you're _sixteen_ now!"

Ichigo promptly shut his eye. "Knew that too:"

"Here, have condoms!"

Both eyes shot open. "What?"

Isshin held them out with a look of solemnity that suggested the greatest holy ceremony.

Ichigo gaped. Sat up. Contemplated punching his dad in the chin again. "Wh-what the hell?"

"It's time for the talk!" Isshin announced, placing himself on the bed next to Ichigo. "Kya….this is the first time I've had to do this! I'm nervous…" he admitted to his son. "But I'll do my best!" Thumbs up.

Ichigo stared. "How about you don't do it at all!"

"No, no, I have to! Especially since I have to practice for Karin and Yuzu!" Isshin insisted, shoving the condoms absently into Ichigo's hands while he dug around in his lab coat for something else. "Here. Lube too."

Ichigo stared at it. "Uhm…what exactly are you tryin' to say here?"

"Now, I've never really had to tell anyone about how to have sex with guys, but don't worry, papa is prepared! I looked up books and porn on the internet last night, and so…"

"WHAT THE HELL?"

Isshin paused. "Well, you… _you know_, don't you?"

"No, I don't know!"

Isshin promptly clutched his son's head to his breast. "Which is why otousan is here! Don't worry, Ichi, I'll teach you how to do this! Touchan is a doctor after all, ne?" Isshin punctuated with a giggle.

Ichigo decided punching his father in the chin again wouldn't do any harm.

However, he was thrown off course when Isshin suddenly released him from his manic embrace. "We should start, ne? Hmmm… I guess I don't have to go into the stuff about where babies come from since you won't be…"

"Waitaminute, answer my question would you? What makes you think I'm…"

"Well your sisters and I were talking the other night and…"

"You talked to Karin and Yuzu about stuff like…like _that_?"

"Of course! And we all agreed that I needed to talk to you about these things because that Ishida boy…."

"ISHIDA!  
"

"Un. The next time Ishida-kun comes over you'll know what to do and there won't be as much struggling noises and he won't leave looking so upset and…"

"HE WAS ONLY HERE TO FIX SOMETHING!"

Isshin snickered and waved a placating hand at his son. "No need, touchan knows already. Ishida-kun is very cute." Another thumbs up.

Ichigo stared, not knowing whether to feel indignant on Ishida's behalf or creeped out at the possibilities of bad touch his father had just suggested to the teen's beleaguered mind.

For some reason, the thought of his dad trying to molest Ishida hurt his head.

"..And then you or, him, depending, I guess, puts that there and then that…"

Ichigo blinked, coming back down to earth. Were those _sock puppets_?

"And then it's like this…" Isshin gave a flick of his wrist before making the puppet under that hand push forward too, in what looked like a…

"STOP IT!"

"Eh? What's the matter, Ichigo? Should I switch them?" he moved the orange-headed one from the top to the bottom.

"NO!"

Isshin looked genuinely puzzled for a moment. And then a light bulb went off in the sick bastard's head and he pulled out a third puppet.

Ichigo gaped as the little figure made its appearance. "C-chad!"

Isshin grinned triumphantly and put all three together. "Oh, so that's how it is."

Ichigo threw him out the window.

**END**


	62. Study Buddy

**62.**

**Title: **Study Buddy  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** GanjyuxHanatarou…ish, Unohana being wise.  
**Word Count:** 448  
**Warning/s: **Not any, really… just, fluff.  
**Summary:** Continuation of sorts to drabble #46 (Please State Your Reason For Applying)- Ganjyu has a test.  
**Dedication:** Beck-senpai again… sorry if I rolled on you or anything when we were sleeping last night. --;;  
**A/N: ** Episode 40…the OMGSOCUTEGAY of GanjyuxHanatarou is  
TOO MUCH FOR ME NOT TO WRITE ANYTHING.

* * *

"A Shinigami's primary objective is to subdue Hollows."

"And?"

"Whaddya mean 'and'? That's the important part, isn't it?"

Hanatarou scratched his head and laughed nervously. "Ah…but Shinigami also do other things, Ganjyu-san…"

"Well yeah, but the primary objective's to kill Hollow's, ain't it?"

"Yes, but… it's also… to…"

"Wait, don't tell me. I know this, dammit. I do…" Ganjyu furrowed his brow, resting his chin on his fist as he sat cross-legged on the floor across from Hanatarou, various books and papers spread out between them as the newly accepted academy recruit studied for the placement exam he was to take come morning.

After a moment, Hanatarou coughed timidly into one hand. "Ah…there's also…good spirits, remember, Ganjyu-san?"

"Ah, ah, right. Right! Shinigami are also supposed to aid harmless plusses that are unable, for whatever reason, to cross over and reincarnate into Soul Society on their own, blah, blah, blah, I remember now."

Hanatarou beamed. Well, as best as he was able. "Very good, Ganjyu-san!"

The larger man looked away from the warmly smiling shinigami in embarrassment. "Aw, cut it out will ya, twerp? They're just fancied up answers. Now c'mon… stop wastin' time. Next question."

"Right. Um…"

However, a sudden knock on the door momentarily distracted them, and looking up, Hanatarou immediately stood upon seeing who it was. "Ah, Unohana-taichou! I'm sorry, are we being too loud?"

The fourth division captain smiled back beatifically at her seventh chair and shook her head, opening the door wider and stepping into the room. "Of course not, Hanatarou. I just thought that you'd like some snacks since the two of you are working so hard," she offered, holding out a tray of tea and pastries to the two young men.

"Aah, thank you, taichou!" Hanatarou stammered, quickly moving to take the tray from her. "This will be a lot of help," he told her with a shy laugh. "We still have a lot to do, after all. Heh."

She beamed back at him and unexpectedly reached out to put a hand on his head.

He blinked. "Eh? T-taichou?"

She chuckled a little. "You're looking much healthier these days," she informed him fondly. "More energetic."

"Eh? R-really?" he laughed again, a small blush creeping onto the apples of his cheeks. "I didn't notice."

"Aa. Much healthier," she reiterated, removing her hand. "Shiba-san?" She turned to Ganjyu.

"Ah, y-yes, Unohana-taichou?"

"Work hard, ne? I expect you'll do wonderfully in whatever you choose."

Ganjyu blushed right alongside Hanatarou at her gentle, knowing entreaty. "Yes ma'am!"

Smiling, the fourth division captain turned around and headed out of the room. "Don't stay up too late, you two," she instructed serenely, closing the door behind her.

"Hai!"

**END**


	63. Insatiable

**63.**

**Title: **Insatiable  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s:** GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 497  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, though warnings for weird use of reiatsu.  
**Summary:** Gin is hungry.  
**Dedication:** Lorena- thanks for the doujin and WELCOME BACK! Hope your appetite returns in time to eat all the stuff you missed!  
**A/N: ** So I set out with the original aim of writing some sort of fluffy, cute GinxKira since the doujinshi Lorena brought me yesterday was OMGSOCUTE. But, the subjects being Gin and Kira…this is what I got instead. --;; It was worth a shot.

* * *

"Taichou, I'm sorry, but these forms have to absolutely be done by today! Please don't forget!" Kira begged, slightly out of breath from having to run back and forth from the main headquarters to the third division compound all morning, fetching paperwork and the like for his captain. 

Gin looked up from his desk, where he was doodling what looked like grotesque chibi-porn in his surprisingly precise scrawl. "Naiyah… but it's so _boring_ Kira-chan…all these papers," he drawled, chin propped up against the palm of his idle hand. "Ne…think of something more fun we can do will you?" He grinned suggestively.

Kira blushed slightly. "Um…taichou… really, you need to finish those forms, they have to be in by noontime to Yamamoto-taichou and…"

Gin sighed heavily at his subordinate's refusal to accept his invitation to play. "My Kira-chan is so cruel," he complained, looking up beseechingly at his vice-captain. Ne…am I not cute today?"

Kira flushed darker. "T-that's not it, of course, taichou! Taichou is always…very…cute," he breathed, looking down at his feet, purposefully away from Ichimaru. "However…I think…that since we didn't get um…any work done yesterday, that today should be spent, uh…"

Gin smiled invitingly at the blonde. "Kyah…so cute," he murmured, timbre of his voice changing in_ just the right way _to make Izuru shiver, make him clutch the sheave of papers he'd fetched protectively to his chest. Gin's smile broadened at the adorable reaction. "Saa…taichou could just eat you up when you're that cute, Kira-chan…"

"T-taichou, please stop this!" Izuru stammered, pressing the folder of papers closer against him like it could shield him from those probing, hungry looks. "We…we have to…"

Gin set his brush aside and leaned back in his chair, regarding Kira predatorily. "Do we?"

"Y-yes, of course we do! The deadline is only a little while away and…kyaaa!"

Kira stumbled backwards as a huge shove of reiatsu pushed into him, causing a wind strong enough to force him back against the office door and send the papers he'd so carefully organized out of his hands and into a swirling flurry about the office "T-taichou?"

Gin, unaffected, simply smiled calmly at the pinned vice-captain from his desk. "Taichou's hungry, Kira-chan," he announced coolly, resting his head in between his hands and looking sweetly at the now disheveled, panicky vice-captain. "It's okay if we take a lunch break, ne?"

"T-taichou! Please…"

Another strategic push of spiritual power and Kira's clothes ripped right off of him.

Gin stood from his desk in one fluid motion, an anticipatory smirk on his face that made Kira shudder deep into his very bones as he strolled over. "T-taichou?"

Closing the distance between them, Ichimaru propped himself up on the wall beside Kira, cupping Izuru's face and absently brushing a thumb over the blonde's trembling lips. "Na…I really can't resist you when you're so _cute_ Kira-chan," he breathed, dipping his head to the blonde's throat for a quick taste. "Mmm, looks good," he murmured happily.

"T-taichou!"

"Itadekimasu!"

"Nnnngh…taichou!"

**END **


	64. How I Found You

**64.**

**Title:** How I Found You  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Renji+Rukia (one-sided), ByakuyaxRenji  
**Word Count:** 949  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for chapter 179.  
**Summary:** There's no joy greater than having your love returned.  
**Dedication:** Um…not sure if anyone would want this dedicated to them. But I'll throw it to Lorena, Kelly, Dan, and Jen for the fun last night. Yay arcade, even if it was full of dumb people.  
**A/N: ** I'm not sure I like how this one reads if only for the fact that it sounds half-asleep (yeah, so I wrote it half-asleep, but that's still no excuse…). Anyway, hope it makes sense to anyone other than me, because I know that I can write things in a rather muddled fashion when I'm being as lazy as I'm being now. And omg why is it so long? I almost had to make it a mini-fic instead of a drabble (yes, my definition of drabble is the loose one of "anything in the hundreds category"… leave me alone). But I cut it down a little bit, which I don't think helped with clarity at all, but oh well.

* * *

Renji believed that it was their common fate of being doomed to love women who would never love them back that first brought them close to one another.

He believed that constantly hearing, "I'm sorry, Renji," from her lips was what had taken him to that place that fateful night, to become stinking drunk and filthy with jealous grief.

Those were the things, really, that it had taken to help them first find one another, as strange as it might have seemed.

He'd never believed that his captain was the kind of man who would sit and sympathize with someone, especially him, who was far below the likes of the great Kuchiki-sama.

So when that man appeared beside Abarai in his run-down Rukongai drinking hole, Renji had initially blamed it on the alcohol. A hallucination.

And when Kuchiki had told the bartender not to give Renji any more drinks, the redhead had been certain that it was just his own inebriated imagination out to make his life even worse than it already was.

So thinking it wasn't real, he'd merely growled and obnoxiously called Byakuya "Kuchiki-taichou-of-my-imagination" for the rest of the evening.

And when that imaginary being frowned at him before demanding that they leave, Renji laughed and told it very matter-of-factly, that he'd come to drown his sorrows either in wine or women and that if one avenue was going to be cut off, then he would very well go on to seek the other.

Byakuya-of-his-supposed-imagination looked indignant at the declaration, and told Renji to stop being vulgar.

But Renji hadn't felt like listening, so he'd only sat and sulked and gone off on long, vulgar speeches about how much it hurt when someone you loved didn't love you back, not even a little bit. And he complained that since everyone already knew _his_ story now, shouldn't Kuchiki-taichou-of-my-imagination be one of the first to sympathize?

Byakuya's eyes had softened at the barb, or perhaps the memory, and Renji had almost believed that maybe it wasn't a hallucination after all, at least, until the Byakuya-hallucination had apologized.

"I'm sorry that you've been hurt."

And he'd thought that it _had_ to be an illusion then, because the great Kuchiki-sama would never say that, not to a lowlife like Renji. Right?

So for the rest of the night Renji talked to that specter like it was exactly that, pouring his heart out to a figment of his imagination that was far too understanding to be the captain he thought he knew.

And he didn't struggle when the figment of his imagination carried him home as he sobbed into the ghost man's scarf about how horrible love was to destroy men like this.

And the ghost simply whispered to him that he understood and that it would hurt less with time.

And Renji had laughed cruelly at that sentiment, had let his imaginary captain drag him back home, he feeling harsh and angry and bursting with self-pity.

"Why'd I have to hallucinate 'bout you, eh, taichou?"

"I don't know, Renji."

"It coulda at least been her. I coulda at least imagined her and imagined that she loved me and…"

"I don't know how to help, Renji. It never goes away…but… it does get better."

"Not good enough!"

And drunk Renji had wished with all his power that the imaginary Kuchiki would turn into the other, had pulled the other man forward, closing his eyes and kissing Byakuya in the hopes that when he opened them again, it would be Rukia there and not her brother.

All he'd wanted was one night, even if it was just in his mind. Just one night to make it hurt less.

That morning, he'd woken up with a splitting headache and the knowledge that even his hallucinations were out to deceive him.

Because when he woke up, he discovered that Kuchiki-taichou-of-my-imagination was very much real, lying beside him all calm and naked, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Renji had clutched his head and moaned.

"Lie down again, Renji. I'll get you some water."

And that was how this funny little thing called healing began for them both. At least, that's what he believed when he remembered sitting in bed nursing a monster headache while the much-revered Kuchiki-sama brought him a glass of water and medicine that would help the physical pain go away.

Perhaps it had been a weird way to start things off. For the two of them, it had taken the ache of not being loved to ultimately lead them to the joy of it.

But looking back, Renji thought that maybe it didn't matter what it was that brought two people together in the first place, so long as they found what really mattered in the end.

And what mattered was that every time he saw Rukia, it hurt a little less.

And every time he saw another one of Byakuya's rare smiles, he felt a little fuller inside.

Though he knew that the circumstances that brought them together were strange, looking back, Renji believed that it didn't matter, because now he knew what it was to be loved, and in the end, that was the only thing that was important.

Because being able to say "I love you" without having to hear "I'm sorry," in return was wonderful.

Even better was hearing, "I know," and being kissed with enough warmth to prove it.

It was all he could ever ask for in the world.

So no matter how he might have come by it, all he could do now was smile and kiss Byakuya back and be glad that the thing he'd been searching for for so long was finally his.

**END**


	65. Lie to Me

**65.**

**Title:** Lie to Me  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Shuuhei+Kira-ish, but not really.  
**Word Count:** 777  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei takes care of a hung-over Kira.  
**Dedication:** Nicole- yes, I realize that the anime and that one chapter of the manga have made ShuxKira a real plausible pairing, but I still can't write them romantically cuz my OTP loyalties lie elsewhere. Hope this is okay though.  
**A/N: **It doesn't make sense to me either.

* * *

Kira awakens with a headache so painful he's tempted to take his soul slayer and put himself out of his misery for all eternity, except that it hurts too much to move and he might vomit the second tries to, which would make for a rather inglorious death.

So instead he moans and peels his eyes open slowly, his throat dry and feeling like it's covered in film, his eyes sticky from sleep and the tears he wasn't able to wipe away before he passed out last night.

And he realizes that he's achingly hung-over.

"You're finally awake."

He nearly jumps out of bed at the sound of another voice in his room, as it is, the little start he does give is enough to send a fresh wave of pain blasting through his skull. "S-senpai?" he croaks, licking dry lips.

"Aa. Let me get you some water," Shuuhei murmurs quietly, standing up and pouring a glass from the pitcher on the bedside table. He helps Kira sit up and urges him to drink slowly. "You had me worried," the other vice-captain admits, looking tired and a little bit sheepish as Kira blinks back at him bewilderedly.

"I did? I'm sorry senpai…I don't remember what happened," Kira replies quietly, either out of shame or a desire to keep any loud noises away from his pounding ears.

"You were very drunk. I thought you were going to die or something, so I carried you back here," Shuuhei tells him with a small, thoughtful frown. "You shouldn't do that to yourself."

"I-I've never really been good at holding my liquor," Kira admits. "T-taichou once said…t-taichou once… said that it was b-because…I…"

Shuuhei watches quietly as Izuru tries to form the words that go along with the memory, battling both the pain in his head and the pain in his heart along the way.

He loses eventually, and suddenly there are tears streaming down his pale cheeks, making Shuuhei wonder if he should be glad that the ties he had with his captain were far too impersonal to warrant tears, though his sorrow is just as real.

He reaches out without thinking and begins to wipe the tears from Kira's face, except it's ineffectual because they keep falling anyway, and soon his fingers are wet with the other vice-captain's grief.

Kira looks at him, surprised, and Shuuhei withdraws his hand, not because he's ashamed of what he so unwittingly did, but because Kira's pain is too raw for someone like him to merely try and wipe it away.

"S-senpai?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm sorry for causing you trouble," Kira apologizes, trying to clean his own face now, futilely swiping at his cheeks with the backs of his hands. "It was irresponsible of me…especially after…after…everything," he finishes lamely, looking at Shuuhei with those helpless eyes that must have been like magnets to someone as sadistic as Ichimaru. Even to someone like Shuuhei, those eyes begged to be lied to.

And Shuuhei thinks that Ichimaru must have done a number on this young man in their time together, because the bright Kira Izuru of Shuuhei's memories is not the same one that sits beside him.

"You didn't cause me any trouble, Kira," he tells the other shinigami gently, swallowing the wellspring of sorrow that bubbles in his chest when he compares the Kira of his memories to the Kira before him now who is crying beautifully and looking like all he wants in the world is for the man who betrayed him to return and make everything okay again.

The Kira Shuuhei remembers was far different from the broken man Ichimaru has left in his wake.

"Still…I'm sorry for this," the blonde repeats, sniffling pathetically. "Um…how…how is senpai holding up?" he asks awkwardly after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"I'm okay," Shuuhei tells the other vice-captain, and for the first time since Tousen left, he believes it. Because no matter how badly he might feel, he's absolutely fine compared to the man sitting before him.

Compared to Kira's pain, Shuuhei realizes that his is merely a drop in the ocean.

He doesn't know if he should feel comforted because of this or if he should cry because it hurts to see his kouhai so shattered.

He doesn't do either.

Instead, Shuuhei sits pensively by the bedside while Kira cries. He pours him another glass of water when the blonde finishes the first.

"It'll get better, Kira."

He's not sure if he believes the words himself, but even if they end up being a lie, the brief flicker of hope that flashes across the younger man's eyes when Shuuhei says them makes it worth it.

**END**


	66. Date o Desu ne…

**66.**

**Title:** Date-o Desu ne…  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ByakuyaxRenji  
**Word Count:** 389  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just…randomness.  
**Summary:** Byakuya and Renji have an important dinner date.  
**Dedication: **JaB- her reaction to Gravitation MegamixGREAT-O  
**A/N: **The only reasoning I have behind this thing is the fact that since this was drabble #66, I figured I could do another ByakuRen drabble. So I did. And this is what I came up with at the spur of the moment. Which is kind of dumb, but after #65, fluff is a great thing in my book. Sorry to bore.

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Byakuya eyed Renji wearily. "If it bothers you so much, Renji then…"

"No, it's not that it bothers me!" the redhead protested, laughing nervously. "It's just uh… they'll look at as funny, won't they?"

The sixth division captain smiled ruefully. "Shall I hold your hand then?"

Flushing, Abarai turned away. "Oi, not helpful, taichou."

"It's just dinner, Renji."

"But it's…dinner…with taichou and…" Renji protested weakly, cheeks darkening further. "I mean… you don't mind that everyone'll… ya know?"

Byakuya's expression turned vaguely amused. "Should I have something to fear from anyone else?"

"No, no, no! It's not that I'm sayin' taichou should worry about anyone or anything, I just… Ah, never mind." The redhead sighed. "I dunno what I'm sayin'."

Byakuya adjusted his clothing and stood, a rare image of beauty dressed in something other than his usual on-duty shinigami uniform. Renji stared up at him, feeling startlingly inadequate in similar clothes that were far too nice for him to have bought himself. "So then, are you done?" his captain asked calmly, holding out a hand to the younger man.

Cheeks almost as crimson as his hair, Renji nodded and reached out, clutching Byakuya's hand in his own as he rose to his feet. "Well, here goes nothing, then, right?"

"It's just dinner, Renji."

"Yeah well…dinner with all the heads of the Kuchiki-clan…. I dunno."

"You'll be fine," Byakuya assured him, squeezing his hand gently as he led his reluctant lover to the door. "It's best not to be late."

Renji nodded. "Yeah, okay. You um…you look real…nice," he offered lamely as they walked, side-by-side.

"Thank you."

"Do I uh… I mean, I've never worn stuff this nice so…am I really okay like this?"

Byakuya, amused by the sudden change in the younger man from headstrong to meek, couldn't help but lean over and gently kiss his squirming subordinate. "It's a step up from your usual pink-and-white, I assure you, Renji."

The redhead scowled at the unexpected jab at his clothing tastes, momentarily forgetting his trepidation. "Che. And no one believes me when I tell 'em you actually got a sense of humor. Just for the record, taichou, I expect a reward for my good behavior later."

"Aa. Later. If you survive dinner first, of course."

"Very funny."

"I thought it was."

**END**


	67. And Counting

**67.**

**Title:** And Counting  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 905 (I can't write short ones anymore. --;;)  
**Warning/s: **Soul Society Arc Spoilers  
**Summary:** Yumichika's in the lead.  
**Dedication:** Everyone who comments on and lj- it makes me feel like less of a loser. y  
**A/N: **Sap sap sap sap fluff fluff fluff fluff, a little bit of porn.

* * *

He's heard Yumichika say "I love you" to him exactly 1,879 times.

He knows this because been keeping count. He doesn't know why, but he does, and sometimes it feels like he's watching the clock on his own clicking time bomb every time he does it.

1,879 times. And counting.

There's always an "I love you" with a kiss first thing in the morning, when he's too groggy to answer. Then there's one as his lunch is being handed to him and he's late getting to headquarters so all he can do in response is take his bento and peck Yumi on the cheek before speeding off to his office, where a mountain of important documents wait. After that there's the "I love you" on the note taped to the cover of his bento box, surrounded by little hearts and flowers. He eats his lunch and folds the note and puts it in his pocket because he's too embarrassed to let anyone else see it.

After work, he heads back home and there's a hug and another declaration of love waiting for him exactly two steps into the door. By then he's exhausted so he simply offers a tired smile and closes his eyes, resting his head against Yumi's familiar shoulder while the other shinigami pets his hair and asks about his day. All he has to say is that being a vice-captain in a squad that's missing a captain is hard work before he's led to the table where something warm that smells nice is waiting.

The food and the attention both energize him a little bit and after they've eaten and cleaned up together they go outside to train, because even as highly ranked shinigami, the both of them still need to keep their skills sharp, and the prefer doing it around each other anyway.

An hour or two in and they're covered in sweat and breathing hard. Training suddenly becomes inadequate, because before he knows it Shuuhei's always plastered against his lover, pressing hot, excited kisses up and down his throat as Yumi clings to him and murmurs "I love you, I love you, I love you," over and over again in his ear. Sometimes they make it back to bed and sometimes they don't, but Yumichika always manages to say "I love you, Shuuhei," as he comes and that's all it takes to push Shuuhei after him, choking out Yumi's name as he does.

Then there's a time of quiet afterwards when they lay together in a sweaty, sticky mess as Yumi either plays with his hair or runs his fingers along Shuuhei's back. He never complains about the heat or being crushed by the other man's weight, and once Shuuhei finds the energy to roll off of him, he does. Then Yumi pillows his head on Shuuhei's chest, curling up and whispering "I love you," one last time before he falls asleep.

1,879 times.

Shuuhei hasn't said it once. Not even halfway.

And that bothers him because he knows he should, he knows he _does_ more importantly, but the words are awkward and difficult and he's never been as good at expressing himself as Yumi.

So one day, when an out-of-breath messenger comes running in from the eleventh division saying that Yumi's been taken to the fourth division infirmary because of an injury in the field, Shuuhei panics and bursts out of his office before the messenger can finish what he's saying.

He's in the ward five minutes later screaming like an idiot and demanding to know where Ayasekawa's being kept. The bewildered looks he gets from the fourth division staff almost confirm his worst fears, and when they won't let him see Yumi it doesn't bother his conscience one bit that he knows he'll kill them where they stand if they remain in his way.

"Shuuhei, love…you're making so much noise!"

And he spins around, a blabbering fourth division crony still in his hands. At the sound of that voice all his rage instantly drains out of him and he stares at Yumichika, who's regarding his lover disapprovingly from where he leans against a doorway, looking frazzled and embarrassed but very much alive.

His hair has turned into an afro on his head, and there's some soot on his face, but otherwise, he's perfectly fine.

Shuuhei drops the crony and takes a moment to digest everything.

Yumi looks away, blushing at his appearance. He fluffs his ruined hair. "I didn't want you to see me like this," he explains. "So I told them not to let you in."

Shuuhei stares at him a little longer.

Yumi frets. "I look horrible, don't I? I got hit by a low-level kidoh today and _you_ know how my hair gets when it's dried out and I…"

It takes two steps forward to pull Yumi into his arms, and one second of incredulity before he finds enough air in his lungs again to burst out laughing.

"It's not funny!" Yumi whines, thwacking Shuuhei in the chest, his nose smooshed against the other man's collarbone.

"I love you so much," Shuuhei chuckles against Yumi's ear, and it surprises him at how easy it is to say after all.

Before long they're both laughing, standing in the middle of the infirmary as bewildered fourth division shinigami stare at them.

As the count stands, Yumichika is leading by 1,878 times.

But really, numbers aren't important anymore.

**END**


	68. Little Hero

**68.**

**Title:** Little Hero  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Hanatarou  
**Word Count:** 532  
**Warning/s: **Minor, barely there spoilers for the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Hanatarou doesn't get picked on anymore.  
**Dedication:** Yoshi, the bully. :P  
**A/N: **I just think that Hanatarou was like, OMGSOBRAVE during the whole Soul Society Arc considering his abilities and thus I wanted to write something where he got what he deserves. Me, being petty like I am, came up with this. --;;

* * *

Hanatarou suspected that his teammates all hated him a little.

He couldn't imagine why, really, but they all treated him a little differently now, after the whole incident with the ryoka.

Well, that and a number of other incidents, but he figured that that was when everything started, because after the incident with the ryoka, he hasn't gotten picked on by a shinigami from another division _once_.

Well, okay, maybe a few times, but they hadn't really counted.

The first time some guy from the seventh division tried to smack him on the head and tell him to get out of his way, he'd ended up being picked up by his collar and thrown through a nearby wall by Abarai-fukutaichou.

"Oi, don't pick on Hanatarou, ya maggot. Che. Ingrates."

"Abarai-fukutaichou?"

"How's it goin', kid?"

"Um…good."

"Good to know. See you later."

"Um…aheheheh…bye…I guess."

The second time, a low-ranking shinigami from the eleventh division had tried to get some kicks with a few friends by picking on fourth division members who were, as it was, already late for cleaning the underground passageways.

Kuchiki Byakuya had cut off a few arms that Hanatarou and his teammates had later reattached, but even still, the message had been clear.

"Loathsome toads. To even dare touching Yamada after everything he has done for seireitei… you should know better."

"Ah…Kuchiki-taichou! Good er, afternoon. Umm…what uh…what…"

"Carry on, Hanatarou."

"Ah, yessir!"

By the third time such an occurance repeated itself, a lot of the shinigami in seireitei were beginning to get the picture that Yamada Hanatarou had friends in high places (who he hadn't known about himself, really), and were starting to lay off of him.

The next to last guy that had picked on Hanatarou had, strangely enough, been hung upside down by his testicles by the eaves of the second division headquarters curtousy of the second division captain herself (Hanatarou_ still_ didn't understand how she knew about his part in what happened).

The last guy that had tried anything had gotten a faceful of Zaraki and that had been that.

No one picked on him anymore.

And despite that being nice, the fact of the matter was, Hanatarou was beginning to think the rest of the fourth division resented him a little bit for it, since they still got bullied all the time.

But then one day, Unohana-taichou made an unexpected speech to her entire division about how it was unwise to cause each other even more grief than they already experienced when they were supposed to be a family within this court that didn't respect them as much as it should.

She, looking pointedly at some of Hanatarou's most notorious tormentors, made it quite clear that she would not stand for such behavior within her ranks.

After that everything pretty much went back to normal and Hanatarou thought with no small amount of relief that maybe the whole 'friends in high places' thing wasn't so bad afterall.

Now if only he didn't have to clean the tunnels anymore.

However, as he pulled on his sanitation gloves and began to work, he supposed that there were just some things that no amount of heroism could ever overcome.

**END**


	69. Give and Take

**69.**

**Title:** Give and Take  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichikaxShuuhei (OMG)  
**Word Count:** 697  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but lotsa yaoi.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei tries switching things up.  
**Dedication**: kajiongaku and flyjone for promises of fanart. I feel validated now!  
**A/N: **Purely in honor of drabble #69 I had to do ShuuxYumi. So, here we have it.

* * *

He shouldn't be as caught up in what other people say as he is, but for some reason, the assumption that he treats Yumi like a girl for sex had pissed him off. He'd ended up throwing an elbow into Iba's face for saying as such before storming off to sulk the rest of the day away in his office.

He didn't do that to Yumi. There was more to it than that, definitely. Even if…they'd never, well… if _he'd_ never been the one to…

The point was, it had pissed him off. And worried him a little.

Enough that he'd even awkwardly brought it up with Ayasekawa over dinner the other night, asking in a rather roundabout way, whether it bothered the other man to constantly be placed in the position he was, well… placed in… when they were together.

Yumi had only blinked back at him with those wide eyes, and asked in a rather confused fashion, why he should mind at all. He loved and trusted Shuuhei and it felt good, and in the end, everyone was happy.

Shuuhei had flushed crimson at his lover's rather blasé take on the whole thing and Yumi had laughed at him, climbing into his lap and kissing him pacifyingly before telling Shuuhei with a wicked little smile, that he shouldn't knock it until he tried it.

That had gotten the ninth division vice-captain thinking, and really, he hasn't stopped thinking about it all day, even as he sits at his desk and fills out mission assignments for the rest of his division.

He thinks about it a lot and eventually comes to the conclusion that Yumi is right, because if Shuuhei properly recalls the looks on his lover's face when they're… well… when they're doing _things_ he knows those lustful expressions aren't completely due to Shuuhei's prowess as a lover, being that before Yumi, he'd never served in that capacity to anyone, and he thinks that it must be something naturally pleasing about what's happening that results in those breathy, keening noises that fill the room whenever he executes a particularly spectacular thrust.

But those thoughts aren't conducive to work, and with great reluctance, he tears his mind from them, resolved to deal with everything when he gets home tonight.

Which explains his practically leaping up the moment the expected duration of the workday is done and over with, despite the fact that there's still paperwork on his desk that he would normally stay to finish.

He's home before even Yumi is, which gives him time to wipe the sweat from his palms and light several candles in the bedroom.

Yumi's back thirty minutes (too long) after he is and he pounces on his lover before he's even completely through the doorway, kissing him fiercely before the other shinigami can greet him.

They hit the bed like a bomb going off and somewhere in the middle of pulling at Yumichika's clothes Shuuhei regains his senses enough to remember what he wants this to be about. With only slight hesitation he gently rolls them over so he's on his back, gazing up at the other man with a mixture of curious trepidation and nervous anticipation.

Yumi looks down at him, momentarily surprised. "Shuuhei?"

"So…let's try it," he says simply, trying to keep his voice steady though it croaks a little anyway.

It takes a moment for the meaning of his words to register with Yumichika, but then the other man is smiling down at him sweetly, leaning in for a kiss much gentler than their previous ones had been. "Oh love, you don't have to…"

Shuuhei reaches up and tucks Yumi's hair behind his ear, trying to cement his resolve in the other man's eyes. "Let's try it," he repeats, though what he really wants to say is _"I love you, I trust you, it's okay…"_

But he suspects Yumi gets it even without him saying it because soon, the other man murmurs, "All right then," before cupping Shuuhei's face in his hands. "Let's try it."

The next day he's sore, but even still, Shuuhei decides that he's definitely not averse to trying that again in the future.

**END**


	70. Interim Taichou

**70.**

**Title:** Interim Taichou  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Shuuhei and a surprise (but not really)  
**Word Count:** 498  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for well, Soul Society, but also ch 186.  
**Summary:** Continuation/companion piece to drabble #60 (Captain Complex)- Ichigo isn't the only temporary replacement.   
**Dedication**: Greg, since he really loves this idea for some reason. ;;  
**A/N: **This is me being a world of LAME. Like, Lamer than usual. ;; I blame it on my internet-less melancholy.

* * *

Hisagi Shuuhei wasn't quite sure what to make of his new temporary captain.

He knew that his current taichou was very powerful. That went without saying.

But all captains were supposed to be powerful, which as a result, added very little to the man's appeal.

What was telling was the fact that the new taichou also happened to be loud, lazy, perverted and rather demanding.

Shuuhei didn't know what to feel about that. On the one hand, this man was very different from Tousen, which might have been a blessing, given the circumstances.

On the other hand, Shuuhei was beginning to think that maybe he was a little _too _unlike Tousen-taichou and that he was going to have a difficult time of trying to deal with his new superior's rather off-putting attitude.

On top of that it was rather difficult to try and figure out the man's history, as everyone that knew was being tightlipped about the situation while everyone _else_ didn't know anything at all.

Shuuhei was curious, naturally, as to where they found this man all of a sudden, a captain-class shinigami to just pull into the ranks of seireitei out of the blue like this.

All he did know about the man was that the ninth division hadn't been his first choice when the three empty positions were offered, but since command of the fifth division had been scooped up rather quickly by Kurosaki Ichigo as a result of one of the man's comments, he'd had to settle for here.

"Oi, oi oi… can't you at least be a _little_ bit cute, Shuu-chan? Making that boring face all the time is so unattractive. Che… Ichigo, that bastard. Taking the only team with a cute little girl just so I couldn't and leaving me with guys only…"

Hisagi's eye twitched. "So sorry, Kurosaki-taichou, sir," he murmured, trying to hold back his sarcasm through clenched teeth.

"Hmmm…well, I guess this isn't so bad, even if I'm surrounded by guys all day. At least you're well-behaved," Kurosaki Isshin chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Shuuhei's hair far too familiarly for their mere two week acquaintance.

The ninth division vice-captain scowled and continued to massage Kurosaki's feet.

"Well, one thing's for sure, nothing much has changed around here," Isshin continued in a voice too loud for any office ever, either oblivious to the fact that Shuuhei wasn't really listening or not caring that he wasn't. "Still as boring as ever."

"Sorry sir."

"Ne Shuu-chan, think you can get my shoulders next? Old bones ya know, I've got a crick in my neck from havin' to sleep on the floor last night… mmmm, yeah, that's good."

There was very much Shuuhei didn't know about Kurosaki-taichou, but in light of everything, he was beginning to think that all the important things about Isshin were making themselves known rather quickly.

And Shuuhei concluded that it was going to be a very difficult few months.

He hoped that Kira and Hinamori were faring better.

**END**


	71. Star Pupil

**71.**

**Title:** Star Pupil  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Aizen, Urahara  
**Word Count:** 528  
**Warning/s: **Sort-of spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Aizen knows there's someone better than him.  
**Dedication: **Beck, you Urahara fangirl you.  
**A/N: **I've been writing LOTS of yaoi drabbles lately, so I figured I should try to balance it out a _little_ bit more (cuz I'll lever have it completely balanced, I don't think). So here we are. A little more gen. Also, sorry for the faulty upload earlier, went beserker on me. Yes.

* * *

Of their academy class, Aizen Sousuke was always at the top in any and all ranking tests. He was undoubtedly, the number one student in school. Teachers fawned over his good manners and thoughtfulness. They constantly praised his leadership abilities and studiousness, citing him as an example to his peers and one of those students who come along once in a very rare while to make teaching worth the trouble again. 

Aizen smiled politely at their praise and didn't let it go to his head because deep in his secret heart, they were the last people he wanted to turn out to be like.

Idiotic teachers teaching idiotic things and he'd known right off the bat that they were wrong about everything. They were so wrong they didn't even _suspect_ how off they were.

He wasn't the smartest student at all. Not by a long shot.

True, he performed the best come exam time, but the fact of the matter was that _he_ was smart enough to know when someone was more intelligent than he was.

Urahara Kisuke was the polar opposite of Aizen. Teachers constantly scolded him for falling asleep in class or ignoring their lectures altogether. He purposefully bowed out in the middle of sparring matches, citing a weak constitution and the desire to avoid all violence if at all possible. He made snide remarks about instructors to their faces (but could never be formally reprimanded as said snide remarks were always carefully veiled), and he played pranks on everyone save for a select few, those being his friends Kyouraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jyuushirou.

He performed only as well on tests as required to pass, though if wanted to, Aizen knew for a fact that Kisuke, despite always sleeping in class, could answer every single problem with an ease and accuracy that put him several levels above most of his instructors.

But it seemed Kisuke was unmotivated by anything in Soul Society that wasn't his friends or alcohol, stating that he thought things that never changed were boring as he tinkered with various gadgets and gizmos undoubtedly invented for the sake of perfecting his notorious pranks.

Aizen watched him carefully for a while and before long, decided that it would be men like he and Urahara Kisuke who would one day rule Soul Society (and more, if they so chose). Thus he set forth an attempt to befriend Kisuke.

Not because he genuinely wanted to be friends, of course, but because it was common sense to want to keep someone who potentially had the same or greater power than you close to you.

So, one day he walked up to the group of three friends and asked, very easily, if he could join them. Ukitake, kind as always, readily agreed.

Easy-going Kyouraku, indifferent as long as there was talk of girls and booze, treated the newcomer as if he'd always been there.

Only Kisuke smiled knowingly at Aizen, eyes laughing at something no one else could quite figure out, not even Sousuke.

In the end, they never grew to be close friends at all.

Aizen knew it was because Kisuke would always be smarter than him.

**END**


	72. Best Friends and Boyfriends

**72.**

**Title:** Best Friends and Boyfriends  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 750  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but lots of posturing.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei and Madarame sort of compete.   
**Dedication: **Our guys, because they're cute best friends with us and even better boyfriends to each other. XD  
**A/N: **Looks like two gen fics in a row is my limit. Back to yaoi! XD

* * *

Shuuhei glared at Ikkaku a lot whenever he was around.

The eleventh division third chair didn't notice half the time and didn't care all of the time.

Yumichika didn't say anything, or maybe that glare was actually Hisagi's default face or something, but Ikkaku suspected the ninth division vice-captain of being something almost like jealous.

Except that instead of saying something about it, Hisagi was trying to play the big man and work it out himself so as not to place Yumi in any sort of awkward situation between his best friend and his lover.

Which might be seen as sweet to some, but in the end it seemed like a rather ineffectual way to deal with something that was bothering you.

All in all, Ikkaku thought it was great fun.

"Ne, Yumi, remember that time taichou…with the thing…and the…" he trailed off, making several vague, nonsensical gestures to Ayasekawa as they sat outside where Ikkaku had found the two lovebirds on a date before deciding to crash their picnic.

Yumichika burst out laughing and mirrored the hand gestures back at Madarame. "I do remember!"

They shared a good chortle for something like five minutes while Shuuhei sat moodily by, looking back and forth between them and feeling simultaneously left out and oddly hostile towards Madarame.

Yumichika wiped tears of mirth from his eyes before offering food to Ikkaku, asking his friend what he'd been up to on his day off and whether he'd finished that thing with Yachiru for that thing they'd been planning for _forever_ now.

And Madarame responded that indeed he'd taken care of that, smiling winningly and graciously accepting the food from the picnic basket Shuuhei and Yumi had packed together this morning. "But then you know how she has that way of…well, you know, and it almost got messed up but then taichou, with the…and the…you know…"

"Hahaha… of course!"

And so the secret speak between best friends continued like that for a good ten minutes before Shuuhei was feeling completely neglected because he couldn't for the life of him, decipher their strange, random buddy-code.

What Hisagi _could_ decipher was that Madarame looked far too smug for his own good.

Shifting slightly, the vice-captain moved to hook his arm around Ayasekawa's shoulders, his lover only sliding instintively backwards at the motion as he continued to blabber on obliviously with Ikkaku.

Shuuhei drew his fingertips up along a bare expanse of arm and Yumi shivered slightly, unconsciously leaning more into him.

"And then…and with the… Shuuhei!"

Ikkaku frowned slightly as Yumi trailed off, giggling as boy-toy murmured something in Ayasekawa's ear that made him laugh and knock Hisagi in the chest playfully.

He watched the lovers share a series of silent, meaningful looks, a conversation with their eyes and bodies, Shuuhei smiling like so and Yumi's cheeks flushing just perfectly, and meaningless words thrown out with so much meaning that it was impossible to decode completely.

"Ne?"

Yumi chuckled. "Oi…" he protested, shaking his head before leaning up to peck Hisagi on the cheek. "Later."

Another meaningful look and Shuuhei's hand moved up on Yumi's shoulder so that his thumb brushed the other man's throat.

Yumi sighed and rested his head happily against boy-toy's chest.

Ikkaku looked back and forth between them both, suddenly feeling very, very out of place. "Uh…I'm gonna head back then. Thanks for lunch, Yumichika… uh…Hisagi…" Ikkaku nodded awkwardly at them both before standing.

"You don't want to stay for dessert, Ikkaku?"

Hisagi smirked at the word dessert, making Ayasekawa's innocent offer into something entirely…not… with just one look.

"Ah, no, no, that's okay. I'll see you two later," Ikkaku insisted, before quickly walking off, ears slightly pink.

Shuuhei watched him go smugly as Yumichika fussed around in the picnic basket for the strawberries they'd packed for dessert. "Mmmm…Shuu, are you sure…"

"Aa. Should be…"

"Next to the…?"

"Yeah."

"Found them!"

That being done, Shuuhei decided right then and there that it was absurd to be jealous of Madarame for being Yumi's best friend. In fact, he of all people should have understood the most.

"Mmm, so sweet! Aaah, love!"

"Aaah."

Because when he thought about it, sitting there in the shade with Yumi feeding him strawberries, it wasn't like they didn't have a secret language for just the two of them too.

And as much as he might have wanted to understand the conversation with Madarame earlier, if he had to choose between that and this, Shuuhei definitely liked this better.

**END**


	73. Why Are You So Cool?

**73.**

**Title:** Why Are You So Cool?  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixEveryone (sort of)  
**Word Count:** 375  
**Warning/s: **I'm dumb.  
**Summary:** There's something about Shuuhei…  
**Dedication: **For Shirong, who's going away for a LONG time for the JET program. You will always be the coolest person I ever met. XD  
**A/N: **Some silliness as a parting gift, seriousness has no power here!

* * *

"Che…maan, don't know why this _always _happens," Renji muttered.

Byakuya frowned, nodding imperceptibly. "Perhaps it's unconscious?" the captain suggested before sniffing and turning away from the spectacle. "A result of particularly good breeding, obviously."

"Then why aren't you like that, ah?" Renji pressed.

Byakuya looked insulted. "I'm… cool. Or 'hip' or 'happening' or whatever the term is you use nowadays…"

"Uh…yeah, I didn't mean that! I mean, sure you are, taichou. Really. Of course! But you're not… well, you know." Renji gestured vaguely to the area behind him with his hand.

Kuchiki smiled slightly. "No, I suppose I'm not."

Both sixth division members shared a quiet moment of self-deprecating humor, turning to look across the quad at Hisagi Shuuhei, who stood in the center of a group of shinigami, speaking about something.

What he said wasn't important.

What mattered was the impenetrable coolness with which he spoke, the fluid movement of muscle and flawless bearing, the even tone of voice, the subtle yet effective facial expressions, the easy intelligence, the gentle understanding and the natural aura of command.

He was the type of character that immediately drew a person's attention, no matter how inconsequential his actions might be.

Currently, was informing the other shinigami of what was on the lunch menu.

Matsumoto was smiling brightly.

Hinamori's eyes shone.

Nanao hung on every word, enraptured.

Nemu blushed prettily and stared at her folded hands.

Kiyone sighed, Isane fiddled with her hair, Rukia even stared a little.

Renji, thoughtful, turned back to his captain. "Oi, taichou, how do I look when I do this?"

He shifted, imitating Shuuhei's effortless pose, flexing his arm muscles hard to get the right effect. "Nngh…well?"

Byakuya arched a delicate brow. "Doesn't work."

Abarai shifted poses, changing his facial features into what might have been dignified had it been on anyone else's face. "How 'bout now?"

"No, Renji."

"Ya sure?"

"Positive."

"Dammit." Deflating, the redhead cast one last covetous look over his shoulder, marveling as enraptured women listened to Hisagi Shuuhei talk about beef curry. "Man… how does he _do_ that?"

"Such are the mysteries of life, Renji."

"Ya think I could ever be like that, taichou?"

"…."

"C'mon…if I worked real hard… you think I'd be able to…"

"No, Renji."

"Damn."

**END**


	74. I Like Beer

**74.**

**Title:** I Like Beer  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Urahara, KyourakuxUkitake (sort of)  
**Word Count:** 843  
**Warning/s: **Drunken OOC, spoilers for Urahara's backstory (or what we know of it…sort of)  
**Summary: **A sort-of companion to drabble #41 (Frat Buddies)- Urahara and Kyouraku and lots of alcohol (but not quite enough).  
**Dedication: **Ann- I'm so glad you could visit! Come again soon!  
**A/N: **I don't know why I named it what I did. I just felt like writing "I Like Beer" somewhere, and this was as good a place as any. Meh.

* * *

Sometimes Ukitake wishes that he had something he could use to record these two when they're like this, laughing and singing and making a general ruckus when any respectable person would be fast asleep at this hour. 

"Oi, oi, oi… how 'bout… this! Who am I? Ne? Who am I?"

"Bwahahahahahahaha Yamai-jii!"

"Right!"

Ukitake waches as the two friends collapse against each other chortling, Urahara's impression of stern Yamamoto-soutaichou dissolving under his red-faced mirth.

Much back-slapping and snorting follows, before the two refill their sake cups and drink another toast, sloshing back the whole dish in one go.

"Oi, Kisuke… how 'bout this? Eh? Eh?"

"Pfffft obviously Komamura-taichou, ne?"

"Ahahahaha yup," Kyouraku answers, taking his hands away from his face where they are displayed in peek-a-boo fashion.

Ukitake blinks at them and marvels at how their stupidity somehow manages to find the same wavelength over and over again whenever they drink together.

"Teeheehee oh, I've got a good one, it'll be easy…promise!" Urahara grins cunningly and steals a look in Ukitake's direction, giving rise to no small amount of trepidation in the thirteenth division captain's chest.

Before he knows it, Kisuke has grabbed him and pulled him close, planting a soft kiss on his startled lips. ""Mmmmmph, Kisuke!"

THWACK.

The sound of Shunsui's hat smacking Kisuke across the back of the head manages to give Ukitake the leverage he needs to pull away, cheeks flushed bright pink as he does.

"Oi now… let's just stick to good clean fun, ne, Kisuke?" Kyouraku reprimands, seeming much more sober than he had just been a moment ago. "Don't bring kawaii little Jyuu-chan into this, ne? He doesn't even drink!"

Kisuke smirks back, looking unapologetic, and merely winks at a still blushing Jyuushirou. "I didn't hear any complaints! And you still haven't guessed who I was pretending to be!" the blonde insists cheekily, knowing full well what the answer is supposed to be.

Kyouraku looks back at him lazy eyed, putting his hat back on his head so that it covers his eyes a little. Giving a little sigh, he says very dryly, "Mmmm…who were you, who were you… aaa…stumped me, Kisuke. I have no idea."

"Aaaaa, how cruel of you, Shun-chan!" Urahara laments melodramatically, idling with his empty sake dish as he leans languidly against the bar, his cheek plastered to the tabletop so that he can look up expectantly at both Ukitake and Kyouraku. "Not even a single guess as to who?"

Shunsui snorts. "Che, bastard. Pour me another drink, will ya?"

"Haaaai!"

Ukitake coughs gently. "Ne…Shunsui, don't you think that's enough for tonight?"

Kyouraku looks like a wounded puppy at the suggestion. "But Jyuu-chan…"

"I think that's enough…for tonight."

"B-but…just one more?"

"Aa, why not one more, ne, Kyouraku's kawaii little Jyuu-chan? What can it hurt?"

The gleam in Urahara's eyes suggest that he's not even as half as drunk as he might like everyone to believe, and Ukitake frowns disapprovingly at him because Kisuke always knows more about everything than anyone else, and Ukitake suspects that one more drink for Shunsui will be catastrophic in some way, though he doesn't know how, exactly. "I don't think that's a good idea, Kisuke."

And then Kisuke looks like the wounded puppy, far more pathetic than even Shunsui can pretend to be when he's trying. "Maaaa, why? I bet if he gets just a _little_ more alcohol in him, he'll be able to guess _exactly_ who I was just now. Pleeeeeease Jyuu-chan?"

Then he leers a little at Jyuushirou and the thirteenth division captain blushes slightly, looking away. "Well, I'm not his mother; he can do what he wants, I suppose. But I don't have to sit and watch it," Ukitake proposes calmly, standing up from his chair. "I'll head back then. Good night, you two."

Kisuke's leer turns into a little frown and once he's sure they can't see him anymore, Jyuushirou smiles to himself as he leaves. It took him years, but sometimes he just knows how to beat Urahara at what he's playing at, though at times, he might not know exactly what the game itself is.

The other two captains watch him go, silent until he disappears.

THWACK.

"Itai! Shun-chan, what was that for!" Urahara pouts severely at Kyouraku, who doesn't buy a second of his faux innocence.

"Che, yarou… you better be buyin' the next bottle for that stunt."

Kisuke smiles back. "Don't know what you're talking about."

But he does pay for the round.

And just as he predicts, after one or two more drinks, Kyouraku's more than ready to let the world know exactly how much he loves Ukitake.

Urahara generously keeps the wine pouring while Kyouraku sighs like a lovesick teenager to himself, something the blonde has seen and heard too many times through their long friendship.

Kisuke smiles ruefully to himself and hopes that one day, preferably before he's gone, he can see Kyouraku like this when Jyuushirou's actually in the room with them.

It would be nice to leave this place with a fond memory.

**END**


	75. Defunct

**  
75.**

**Title:** Defunct  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichika, ByakuyaxRenji  
**Word Count:** 529  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers that I can spot.  
**Summary: **Companion drabble to #14 (Debauched)- Everything Renji thought he knew has been horribly messed with. Shuuhei tries to help.  
**Dedication: **Wow… finally reached #75. This one's for everyone who's stuck through the last #74 with me. I hope you're not completely sick of me yet. --;;  
**A/N: **I probably write way too much HisagixAyasekawa. --;;

* * *

"Ah…senpai…ya mind if I ask you a question real quick?"

Hisagi blinked. "Are you limping?"

"Uh…yes. But that's not important. There's somethin' I wanna know."

"Well, go ahead and ask then, though I don't know why you needed to come all this way just to ask a question I'm sure anyone else could answer as well," the ninth division vice-captain conceded, though suspiciously.

Renji, either not noticing or choosing not to, laughed in relief. "Great…thanks so much, senpai, I mean, you're gonna be a real lifesaver, I mean it…"

"You have to ask me the question first, Renji."

"After you start sleepin' with guys can you still go back to girls?"

If there had been anything in Hisagi's mouth, he would have spit it all over Renji. As it was, he only choked on his own spit a little bit. "E-excuse me?"

"Well, I figured that since you and Ayasekawa are… _you know_, you'd be the best one to ask about this."

"We…"

"Blah, blah, blah, you hate that bastard, yeah. Look, senpai…just… answer a guy, would ya?"

Hisagi, cheeks pink, managed to regain his composure somehow. "I don't want to answer this."

"Aw, c'mon senpai…_please_?I'm really confused!"

Shuuhei blinked. "Wait…does this mean you've…"

Renji's cheeks reddened. "Maybe."

"Oh so _that's_ why you're limping…" The other vice-captain smirked a little. "So…"

"Well, last night, taichou and I… _you know_, but um… I thought with two guys it'd be kinda _you know_, and once it was done I'd be okay and everything would go back to normal except…"

"Except?"

Renji's voice dropped in embarrassment. "_You know_."

Momentarily forgetting his own embarrassment at Renji's confession, Hisagi's expression turned to one of unholy glee. "You can't stop thinking about it."

"Yeah."

Shuuhei burst out laughing.

"Senpai! Senpai, it ain't funny! C'mon, just answer me, will ya? What's _wrong_ with me? I liked_ girls,_ and now every time I think about…_stuff…_ it's all got to do with _taichou_…" Renji raved in a rather indiscrete whisper.

Shuuhei, in a mighty effort to get his laughter under control, managed to wrestle it down to just a smirk. "You really want my advice?

Renji nodded emphatically.

Hisagi simply shrugged and said, "Try it again."

"Yeah…why don't I… _what?_"

"Try it again," Shuuhei responded levelly. "And if the results are the same…"

Renji swallowed. "Then I…"

The ninth division vice-captain nodded. "Then you're…"

Renji cringed. "Are you sure?"

Shuuhei nodded.

"Dammit!" Renji cursed. "I liked _girls_ goddammit! Che…it's all that bastard's fault."

Hisagi tried his best to look sympathetic.

After a little while, Renji sighed in defeat and rolled up his sleeves. "All right then. Here goes nothin'..." he told himself resolutely. "I think taichou's in his room right now…"

"Most likely."

Turning to go, the redhead cast one last look over his shoulder at his senpai. "Ah…wish me luck?"

Managing to hide his amusement behind a solemn smile, Shuuhei nodded. "Good luck, Renji."

"Yosh. Here goes!"

Shuuhei watched as Abarai marched off, muttering words of encouragement to cement his resolve as he walked. Chuckling to himself, Hisagi shook his head.

Suddenly, he couldn't wait to get home tonight.

Yumi was going to _love_ this.

**END**


	76. Nice Guys Finish Last

**  
76.**

**Title:** Nice Guys Finish Last  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s:** KiraxGin, AizenxGin  
**Word Count:** 412  
**Warning/s: **Slightly risqué…but not as bad as a few others I've written I suppose. --;; And sort-of spoilers for Soul Society Arc.   
**Summary: **Kira and Aizen are very different lovers.   
**Dedication: **Mike, you sexy Aizen bastard you.  
**A/N: **I always shaft Kira. --;;

* * *

Gin sighs as he comes, quiet and sweet and full of warmth with Kira hot and hard inside him, holding him like a good lover is supposed to as he thrusts upwards in a firm, gentle rhythm.

The blonde feels his captain shake in his arms and follows not long after, kissing Gin's throat so softly as he does that Ichimaru barely feels it all.

Then there is a moment afterwards that is silent save for their heavy breaths and Kira looks like he wants to kiss Gin on his lips with the same gentleness he'd used on Ichimaru's throat.

Frowning, Ichimaru detaches himself from the blonde before he can, rolling onto his back and looking speculatively at the ceiling.

Beside him, Kira sighs heavily. "Taichou?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

Finding his legs, Gin sits up and searches for his clothes.

"Taichou? Are you leaving?"

"Aa."

"Can't you…stay?"

Gin turns and looks at Kira, whose eyes are big and pleading though he's doing his level best to behave like Ichimaru always tells him to.

Gin continues to dress. "Go to sleep like a good boy, Kira."

The blonde turns his gaze downwards. "Yessir."

Gin smiles and stands, ruffling his vice-captain's hair fondly. Before long he is clothed and out the door, looking for the special something that was missing in those moments alone with Izuru.

When he enters Aizen's bedroom some short time later, his former captain is not surprised at all.

"You smell like that puppy of yours," Sousuke reprimands him with an eerie smile as he stands, calmly setting down his brush and papers.

"Do I? I'll go clean up first, then," Gin offers.

Aizen laughs. "No need, you'll just get messy again."

"Will I?"

The fifth division captain nods before reaching out to Ichimaru. The silver-haired man obligingly steps forward, and in one quick motion, Aizen grabs him roughly by the hair and yanks him forward, up against his chest.

"Mmm, not a mark on you," the older man clucks disapprovingly. "Not training your puppy to satisfy you the way I taught you, hmmm? It's no wonder you're always back here in the dead of night."

"Is it?"

Aizen chuckles and places his mouth firmly on Ichimaru's throat, and Gin really feels it this time because before long, it's bleeding. "So," Aizen asks around the taste of blood on his tongue, "how do you want me to hurt you tonight, Gin?"

Gin smiles. "Any way you want, sir."

**END**


	77. Most Important

**  
77.**

**Title:** Most Important  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** light KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 474  
**Warning/s: **No spoilersthat I can think of.  
**Summary: **Kyouraku visits a sick Ukitake.  
**Dedication: **Everyone who doesn't mind being inundated with my last 7 drabbles, all of which are kinda dumb. :;  
**A/N: **I dunno. I felt like WAFF. So here it is.

* * *

"How do you feel?"

"Not as bad as yesterday."

Kyouraku nods in response and presses a fresh icepack against Ukitake's warm forehead. "You should've taken it easy, I could've handled it by myself," he chides gently, petting the other man's hair gently with his fingertips.

"I'm a captain too, Shunsui."

Kyouraku knows this already of course, but he thinks that there are more important things to be than a captain. If he could, he'd make it so that Ukitake-taichou would concentrate more on letting himself be healthy, happy Jyuu-chan instead of feverish and weak like he is now, for no other reason than something like saving face.

Shunsui almost wants to say exactly that, but Ukitake needs rest and care, not a lecture, and instead, he responds with, "Aa, you are a captain. And captains don't need to overexert themselves when things can be taken care of by others."

Ukitake frowns back, on the brink of saying something, but Kyouraku cuts him off with a gentle smile and a kiss to his temple. "Rest for now, Jyuu-chan. You can argue with me about this when you feel better."

Ukitake looks back at him disapprovingly, but concedes to Shunsui's logic when he feels too tired to sit up anymore.

Wordlessly, Kyouraku helps him lie back down, pulling the covers up to his chin and tucking his long hair behind his ears. "I'll come see you tomorrow. Feel better."

His eyes convey his regret at not being able to stay, but there are pressing matters to attend to, and Shunsui has to remember that he's a captain too, though there are definitely things more important than that.

But Ukitake wouldn't want him to stay anyway, because more than Kyouraku, the white-haired man places being a captain as one of the most important things in the world, and Shunsui doesn't think that he should stay and vex Jyuushirou any more than he already has with the knowledge that he's skipping out on work to see him.

At least, not today. Shunsui still hopes that maybe one day Jyuushirou will remember that there are things more important in the world than being a captain, but he doesn't think it will be today.

And so he stands to leave. But as he moves to pick up his hat from the bedside table, a hand on his sleeve pulls him back gently. He turns, surprised. "Jyuu-chan?"

"Stay a little longer," the other captain asks quietly, eyes fluttering closed.

Shunsui smiles and sets his hat back on the nightstand before sitting down again. "Okay."

He stays at Jyuushirou's bedside and watches him sleep for hours.

Nanao will surely kill him for being late to work on such a busy day, but Kyouraku knows she'll find a way to understand when he explains that he had more important things to do.

**END**


	78. Generation Gap

**  
78.**

**Title:** Generation Gap  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Ukitake, Kyouraku  
**Word Count:** 129  
**Warning/s: **OOC stupidity, but no spoilers.  
**Summary: **CRACK fic-Kids just don't know how to speak properly anymore.  
**Dedication: **My brothers, because they totally talk like this…at least, on the computer. I hope I used all of that slang right. --;;  
**A/N:** I'm cracked out on the joy of having internet back, obviously.

* * *

You knew you were old when you could no longer understand the words people used in their ordinary, everyday conversations.

Kyouraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jyuushirou were sitting together under the shade of a porch overhang in the commons of seireitei one hot summer day, catching snatches of conversation as other shinigami walked past them on their way to lunch.

"WTF?"

"ZOMG."

"ZOMGWTFBBQ?"

"STFU."

"NOOB."

"O…PWNED!"

"LOLZ."

"Che. SUXORS."

The two senior ranked captains turned and blinked at each other.

After a minute, Shunsui slouched against the wall and pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes. "Think it's a sign that we should retire soon?"

Ukitake smiled at his longtime companion. "I'm sure it's just a fad. It'll pass."

Kyouraku chuckled and sighed tiredly. "Eh… you're probably right."

**END**


	79. Coming Home

**79.**

**Title:** Coming Home  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 649  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers.  
**Summary: **Yumichika comes home with a friend.  
**Dedication: **Hmmm…I dunno. How about whoever it is that likes it? ;;  
**A/N:** I dunno. I just kind of thought that it'd been a while since I let Yumi and Shuu snark at each other a little bit, so I just wanted to put them in a situation where they'd have to do that some. This was the best my cliché-addled mind could come up with. Meh.

* * *

There was nothing to worry about.

Absolutely _nothing_ to worry about.

He was prepared.

Unlike a week ago, when, while he was trying some rather experimental things, Yumi had sat up suddenly and asked Shuuhei if he'd like to meet his parents.

Shuuhei had fallen off the bed.

Obviously, he hadn't been prepared then.

"Parents? You have _parents?_" He'd sputtered.

Yumichika had simply blinked back at him. "Yes. Don't you?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"I want you to meet them."

Shuuhei didn't know how to respond to that. In fact, he hadn't, for a good while.

He hadn't been able to really say anything until Yumi had asked him very quietly, "Do you not want to?"

"No, that's not it," Shuuhei had backtracked, knowing that tone and its repercussions. "I just uh…never really thought about us in the context of um…parents."

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Yumi told had him, looking away and not doing a very good job of hiding his very obvious ploy to try and put Shuuhei on the road to a grade-A guilt trip.

Hisagi told himself it wasn't going to work.

"But they wanted me to visit home since I have some time off next week. I'll be going either way," Yumichika continued. "I haven't been back in a long time."

It wasn't going to work, dammit. No guilt trip. He wouldn't let it work.

"I'll probably not see you for a week then."

Shuuhei had clenched his teeth and let his head hang between his knees. "You're a no-good unfair bastard," he muttered after a moment.

Yumi smiled. "I have a father, actually, so no I'm not. And he's very anxious to meet you, by the way."

"You _told_ him about me?"

"Of course. It's not something I would spring on them during a surprise visit home," Yumi sniffed. "That's rather indelicate, don't you think?"

"So they…"

"They do."

"And?"

"They want to meet you."

Shuuhei had a sneaking suspicion that "meeting" in that context might also involve beating to a bloody pulp for defiling a precious only son. "This is a bad idea," he'd warned, turning his head to look at the other man. "It's a bad idea."

"My father likes to fish and my mother wrote and said she knitted you a sweater," Yumi had responded levelly, like that had something to do with Shuuhei's misgivings about the whole thing.

"It's a bad idea," he'd repeated petulantly.

Yumi had chuckled and leaned forward to brush a kiss against his lover's furrowed brow. "There's nothing to worry about. At worst, they'll hate you."

"Always good at comforting a guy, aren't you?"

Ayasekawa smiled and wrapped his arms around Shuuhei's waist. "And so what if they hate you? It doesn't matter to you, does it?"

"Of course it does, you idiot. You have _parents._"

"That's sweet."

"Argh."

"So you're coming?" Yumi had asked, resting his head on Shuuhei's shoulder and looking up at him like something very, very cute that would get slaughtered if Shuuhei didn't call a helpline or make a donation or something.

If he'd had a wallet, he would have been reaching for it at that point.

As it was, he simply sighed.

"Excellent. I'll write them and let them know we're both coming." Yumi had beamed at the capitulation, and not at all in a smug manner. Not at all.

That had been that.

And now, one week later, Shuuhei found himself standing outside the door to a nice house. Not a Kuchiki-clan house, but a nice one all the same, and he had flowers for Yumi's mother in his hand and a fishing pole in his duffel bag and a really bad feeling about everything.

So it figured that when they knocked, a middle-aged looking man with a sword pointed at Hisagi's throat opened the door.

He _knew_ this had been a bad idea.

**END**


	80. In Heat

**  
80.**

**Title:** In Heat  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Komamura, Iba  
**Word Count:** 403  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for what's behind the helmet. Sort of.  
**Summary: **For a few weeks every year, Komamura-taichou isn't himself.  
**Dedication: **JaB, who likes surprise sex.  
**A/N:** The crack continues. --;;

* * *

"I'm tellin' ya, you can't go in there, bastard!" Iba protested as one of those snooty Center 46 court messengers pushed past him.

"I'm not here to speak to a common thug. These orders come from seireitei's highest governing body and are to be seen by no one but the division captain. They are not to leave my hands save to go into Komamura-taichou's."

Iba grunted and grabbed the man by the back of his collar, yanking him away from the locked door. "Look, yarou… Komamura-taichou said not to let anyone in there for two weeks, ya hear me? And no one's gettin' in there for two weeks, even if it's Yamamato-soutaichou himself!" The seventh division vice-captain leaned forward in an attempt to scare the interloper into leaving. "So since you ain't gonna see taichou, I think it's best ya leave right now," Iba advised, shifting so the hilt of his soul cutter passed in front of the other man's eyes.

"How uncouth," the messenger sniffed, elbowing past Tetsuzaemon anyway. "You have no authority over me or these papers."

"Oi…bastard, don't…"

The messenger, oily little insect that he was, outpaced Iba to the other side of the room using the specially trained speed Center 46 gophers were known for, and without any ceremony, removed the papers that kept the doors mystically sealed, tossing them over his shoulder and onto the floor.

"Wait…don't!"

Too late, and the doors burst open with an animal roar that Iba could barely recognize as Komamura-taichou, freezing the overblown delivery boy in his place.

Iba tried to cross the room out of some frightened instinct to get the doors closed again, but the unbelievable wave of spiritual pressure stunned him. Unable to move, all he could do was peer into the dark room with a horrible feeling of dread in his stomach.

Then, almost in slow motion, one giant hand reached out of the darkness, grasping the Center 46 lackey by the front of his robes and yanking him forcibly inside.

The doors slammed shut behind him.

Iba was forced to listen to the man's screams for the better part of the night.

And when Komamura-taichou emerged two days later, looking none the worse for wear, the first order of business he attended to was summoning a fourth division shinigami to come collect the man whose name was apparently Yasuda.

Iba was too afraid to look into the room.

**END**


	81. Worrywart

**  
81.**

**Title:** Worrywart  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Kuchiki siblings  
**Word Count:** 883  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Soul Society  
**Summary: **Byakuya's become paranoid.   
**Dedication: **My parents, who are irrational and get pissy when they worry.  
**A/N:** So, talk to my brother on AIM today and find out that since I lost my phone and have been, for the post part, unable to contact my parents for a week and a half, they've been pissed. Like, really, really pissed. Like so pissed that when I do try to call, they're too pissed to talk to me. IRRATIONAL! This is my attempt to understand them or get in their shoes or something like that. --;;

* * *

Byakuya supposes that he should admit to being paranoid.

It might have been the hairsbreadth distance between life and death that they'd skirted, but ever since he almost lost Rukia to the follies of a madman, he's been hyper-sensitive to his sister's whereabouts and actions to the point that she sometimes avoids him completely so as not to, in her annoyance, outright yell at him to leave her alone.

But he only does it because he cares, which he hopes she understands.

She was almost executed. By _them_ no less. The good guys.

It makes him a little bit wary of where she is and what she's doing and with whom.

And she's not even back on active duty yet.

He doesn't want to think about what might happen to his peace of mind when she gets reactivated. And when he seriously considers using his status to prohibit her return to the human world, he feels vaguely ill, because that's an abuse of power and a gigantic breach in not only protocol but their carefully balanced sibling relationship as well.

He doesn't want Rukia to be angry with him, as she undoubtedly will be should he do something like use the Kuchiki name to influence the decisions made regarding her work as a shinigami.

But the thing is, he's actually entertaining the thought of carrying that plan out, despite the consequences.

It probably isn't a good sign, but he can't help it.

He _worries._

When will it be that she's stranded in the human world without any powers once again? When will she next get injured on the job or see someone precious cut down before her eyes? Will she eat all right while she's gone? Will she fall in love with another loud-mouthed human idiot? If she does, will said loud-mouthed idiot take advantage of her? What if she catches a human disease? Can shinigami catch human diseases? Will the weather be too hot or too cold where she's assigned? Could Aizen come back to finish the job? Or will it be the next super-powerful nutcase that he can't protect her from?

What if she never comes back?

What if she doesn't _want_ to?

He's never worried about these things before granted, but almost losing someone tends to make one wake up to the possibility of losing them _again_.

Just thinking about it all makes him break out into a cold sweat.

It's very unbecoming.

"Nii-sama, I'm going out."

"Where?"

"Don't know."

"With who?"

"Renji and some other people."

"What other people?"

"I don't know. Just some people, I suppose."

"…oh."

He tries his level best not to look concerned. Which means he purses his lips and crosses his arms and stares very hard at the wall ahead of him instead of turning around and telling her to go back to her room right this instant and wait until he can have a proper escort arranged.

She'd _hate_ that. And then she'd probably hate him for it.

It isn't a nice thought.

He hears her putting on her shoes in the doorway and he stares harder at the wall, telling himself not to worry because if anything, Renji will be there and he's trustworthy if a bit stupid when it comes to Rukia.

"Nii-sama."

He stares until his universe becomes that spot on the wall and nothing else.

"Nii-sama?"

It's just him and the spot in a battle of wills.

"Nii-sama!"

He blinks. "Er…yes?"

Turning around, he sees her looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and bemusement, and he's not sure he likes that expression because he doesn't know what to do with it.

"Do you want to come with us?"

He stares at her.

She looks slightly impatient after a moment. "I know you've been cooped up all day in here too," she explains, looking away. "But you don't have to come if you don't want to, it's not a big…"

"I'll come."

She blinks this time.

He doesn't quite know what to do with that either. "Um… I'll come," he repeats, sounding awkward and imperious all at once and he wonders if it's just a natural thing his voice does nowadays whether he wants it to or not.

"Okay. I'll wait while you get ready." She sits down by the door and looks at him.

He has no idea what he's getting ready for.

But before long he's standing, deciding that the yukata he has on is fine. He puts his shoes on and offers her a hand, pulling her to his feet.

They go out and meet with her friends, and it's a little bit awkward because Byakuya feels too old and unprepared for whatever it is kids their age do. But he's there and watching over her, and he feels less worried about it because she's constantly in his sights and not in the arms of a powerful megalomaniac whose eyes scream promises of endless bad touch possibilities.

Byakuya thinks he's most definitely paranoid, maybe to the point of being irrationally so. But sitting here, watching over her, he finds, to his relief, that his fears abate when he knows he's there by her side should she need him.

He'll probably get over it in time, but for now, he hopes she doesn't mind _too_ much.

**END**


	82. Big Sisterly Love

**  
82.**

**Title:** Big-Sisterly Love  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** GanjyuxHanatarou, Kuukaku  
**Word Count:** 436  
**Warning/s: **Not really any spoilers unless you count the ones that come up by association.  
**Summary: **Hanatarou has dinner at the Shiba residence.  
**Dedication: **My Bros! I miss you both.  
**A/N:** So, I didn't realize how much I missed my siblings until last night, when my parents were pissed at me and my brother was on AIM trying to mediate and getting his ass handed back to him for it. Then afterwards he sort of comforted me in that awkward, brother sort of way where he did everything to change the subject and make me laugh. He succeeded with the story about how he and my other brother, while very, very afraid, went to hunt a HUGE cockroach they'd seen in my room together. These guys are like, Kenpachi and Komamura-sized football players, and they had to go into my room together with a shoe and scream like girls trying to kill a monster roach. While it disturbs me that there was a roach in my room (ah, see what happens when you're not home for a year?), the image of two linemen being freaked out by an insect won me over and I did start laughing. Then I asked my brother if he still couldn't touch his elbows together and the night was somehow redeemed. Obviously, these are the longest author's notes EVER but I want everyone to know that I 3 my brothers, the big loveable idiots (which explains the sibling theme of the last two drabbles rather well). And expect something about Kenpachi and Komamura going roach killing one of these days. Maybe.

* * *

His sister has taken to calling the runt "Your little rabbit," and Ganjyu's not sure she's doing it because she's fond of Hanatarou or because she wants to stew him.

If he was a betting man he would say it's definitely the latter, but his sister seems to take great joy in proving him wrong whenever she can, so he doesn't say anything about it.

But, oblivious little bastard that he is, Hanatarou doesn't ever notice the danger he's in, and really, it looks like he's taken quite a shining to Kuukaku. That worries Ganjyu more than anything else, mostly because it calls the kid's sanity into question.

He's on the edge of his seat the entire time Hanatarou is eating with them, the kid sipping his tea like a zombie and chatting politely with Kuukaku like he doesn't notice the manic grin on the elder Shiba's face.

Ganjyu is poised on his knees to snatch Hanatarou up and throw him over his back so they can run the moment it looks like Kuukaku is going to strike. Needless to say, that's left him in a rather unpleasant state of readiness throughout the evening.

"Ahahaha souka… so I'm actually older than Ganjyu-san."

Ganjyu falls on his ass. "_What_?" he asks, rubbing his knees and looking incredulously at the kid.

"'S right, he's huge like an ox, but really, he's a giant, useless baby," Kuukaku chortles, blowing away on her pipe, though amazingly enough, she's avoiding puffing into Hanatarou's face.

"Oi…nee-san…" Ganjyu protests, moving to sit straight again.

Hanatarou laughs a little bit and smiles brightly at Ganjyu. "I don't think he's useless," the kid, no, the older boy, protests on the other man's behalf.

It's all strangely gratifying and Ganjyu looks purposefully away from Hanatarou so he doesn't do something stupid and fruity like, smile back.

"Oi…brat, your face is all red," Kuukaku points out flatly before laughing raucously and patting Hanatarou's head. "My little brother… still surprisingly innocent for such an ox, eh?" she asks the shinigami without expecting an answer. "Ne, rabbit-chan, make a man out of him soon, I can't stand this! 'S too cute!"

Ganjyu chokes on his own spit while Hanatarou laughs alongside Kuukaku, though it's clear that he has no idea what she's talking about.

Ganjyu on the other hand, suddenly has a third possibility as to why his sister insists on calling Hanatarou 'rabbit'.

Shocked, disturbed, and something else he can't quite place, Ganjyu stands and excuses himself to go to the restroom.

Behind him, all he can hear is his sister's loud laughter.

Sometimes he really hates her.

**END**


	83. Faith

**83.**

**Title:** Faith  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Byakuya  
**Word Count:** 516  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Soul Society Arc  
**Summary: **Byakuya has to believe in what he's fighting for. Doesn't he?  
**Dedication: **Greg- thanks for the curry lesson last night. It was good!  
**A/N:** I dunno. I feel a little angsty right now. So that usually means either I write Byakuya or Kira. Byakuya's an easier target.

* * *

Byakuya has long believed that the only way to be successful in the battle against the Hollows is to believe in the system.

He knows seireitei isn't perfect, that it probably never will be. But what is important, he thinks, is the principles behind what they do, the belief that they're making a difference and that their acts are necessary and just.

He's sure they seem unreasonable sometimes, even unfair. But the only way for men like him to give their all in the heat of battle, the only way for him to be willing to die fighting monsters he doesn't have to, is if he believes in something.

He believes in the ideals of the Gotei-13. He believes in his role as a shinigami and a captain.

And while that belief has been very recently, shaken to its very core, he finds himself trying to build it back up anyway, because he doesn't think he can fight unless there's something to be certain about.

It's difficult.

To discover that the system he so ardently believed in had been so easily overridden by madmen to the point that he almost had a hand in his own sister's death… that's a difficult wall to climb.

He finds more and more, that with every order he gets, every mission, every missive… they're all suddenly suspect. It's hard not to think that there might be another Aizen-esque puppet-master pulling the strings above them all again, and he knows that of the whole incident, this overhanging shadow of suspicion caused by the traitors will be the most grave wound imparted on Soul Society.

As for himself, it had been a day not so long ago when he'd believed so strongly in what seireitei stood for that he was willing to allow them to execute someone precious to him. As distraught as he had been, he'd believed enough in what they did as shinigami that he'd fought _for_ her death rather than against it.

To discover how wrong he had been and the consequences that might have occurred had he not been stopped…

He's beginning to doubt the system. He doesn't want to, but it can't be helped, no matter how much he struggles with it.

He doubts.

And that's dangerous, because if he doesn't trust in the mechanism that sends him and his men to battle, then it means that they're all less likely to return from it.

So he tries to rebuild his faith.

But he finds that it's simply an inevitability for those who had the strongest beliefs to have the hardest time believing again once they've been proven wrong.

He feels like he's fallen farther than anyone else in all of seireitei.

"Ah taichou-sir! Attackin' line of Menos approachin' the western line, sir! Awaitin' orders, sir!"

Byakuya frowns and eyes Renji for a long moment.

"Sir?"

Allowing himself one small sigh, Byakuya draws his zanpakutou and steps forward. "Tell the line to advance."

"Yessir!"

For now, Byakuya, as a captain, has to force himself to believe.

He'll doubt only when it's safe to.

After his division survives.

**END**


	84. By Our Powers Combined

**  
84.**

**Title:** By Our Powers Combined  
**Rating:** PG-13 for cussing  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Komamura, Zaraki  
**Word Count:** 619  
**Warning/s: **minor spoilers for the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary: **Kenpachi and Komamura join forces to battle an awesome foe.  
**Dedication: **My brothers again- this one's all their fault.  
**A/N:** Crack and OOC stupidity, but at least it was a fun write.

* * *

"GRAAAAARRRRGH DIE YOU BASTARD! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!"

When various shinigami, including the likes of third chairs and vice-captains, began fleeing from the quad in terror, Komamura Sajin, as a captain, did his duty and ran towards whatever was causing the disturbance.

As he neared, the immense wave of reiatsu that washed over him nearly made him pause in his tracks, but he managed to shake it off and push on, growling once he recognized the specific ki signature of the culprit who was causing such an uproar on a perfectly beautiful day.

"ZARAKI, WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" he demanded upon bursting into the commons, the almost manic release of Kenpachi's power creating a wind that blew his captain's coat back fiercely.

"GONNA KILL IT, GODDAMMIT YOU PIECE OF SHIT HOLD STILL!" Zaraki roared, ignoring the seventh division captain completely in lieu of swinging his zanpakutou so fiercely the air sliced into the court's buildings an inch at a time.

Before Kenpachi could do any more damage Komamura stepped forward and grasped the other captain by the shoulder, using all of his enormous strength to yank him backwards and away from the building.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Komamura commanded of the manically breathing Zaraki.

"IT WON'T _DIE!_" Kenpachi shouted back, looking half gone on bloodlust.

Komamura slapped him. "_What_ won't die?"

Kenpachi, too caught up in what he was currently trying to accomplish to notice that Komamura had done just as good as challenge him to battle, pointed with one large hand towards the wall of the now tilting commissary. "Roach," the eleventh division captain ground out, looking like he wanted to push around the fox man and resume his wild swinging.

Komamura blinked back stupidly. "Roach?"

"Yeah. The size of my fuckin' _fist_," Kenpachi continued. "Bastard won't _die!_"

The seventh division captain looked at his peer incredulously. "_ROACH_? You're doing this because of one pathetic insect?"

"Che. Didja _SEE_ the bastard?" Kenpachi demanded, wrenching himself out of the fox's hold. "Go look at the thing, I'm not kiddin'… it's a fuckin' Hollow roach!"

Komamura scoffed. "No such thing," he snapped, before turning and peering into the corner Kenpachi had so ardently attempted to destroy.

"Great Gods…" he breathed.

"Fuckin' _huge_ ain't it?" Kenpachi barked, looking satisfied.

Komamura frowned at the arrogant tone. "Which should make it relatively easy to kill, Zaraki. If you'd control yourself and use your power correctly, you should be able to kill it with ease!" he criticized, drawing his own sword to make the point. "Watch."

Closing his eyes, Komamura gathered all of his reiatsu into one fine point, focusing down on the gargantuan insect that so easily eluded Zaraki's psychotic grasp. "Haaaa!" Releasing his energy all at once, the fox captain concentrated it into a needle-shaped blow aimed at the insect's middle.

BAM.

The insect moved a little to the left.

There was a laser-sized hole in the ground that probably extended down for miles beside it, but the cockroach itself was unharmed.

Komamura couldn't restrain his look of disbelief. "What the _hell?_"

"See? _See_? Fucker won't DIE!" Kenpachi seethed, poising his zanpakutou to attack again. "I'm gonna kill it!"

"No, let me try again."

Twenty minutes later, the barrage of intense reiatsu emanating from the quad had doubled.

The assumption was that Komamura and Zaraki were locked in the battle they'd been unable to engage in during the Aizen fiasco, and all roads into the commons were blocked off in the interest of self-preservation.

Meanwhile, the fearsome cries of, "DIE, DIE, DIE WHY WON'T YOU DIE YOU FUCKER?" echoed through seireitei.

The most frightening thing about it all was the fact that one voice was indistinguishable from the other.

**END**


	85. Shuuuchan! Ne…Shuuchan!

**  
85.**

**Title:** Shuuu-chan! Ne…Shuu-chan!  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Nanao, Isshin, Shuuhei, Shunsui  
**Word Count:** 350  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers by association for the Soul Society arc?  
**Summary: **Companion piece to drabble #70 (Interim Taichou)- The similarities between Isshin and Shunsui are amazing.  
**Dedication: **Greg- this was his idea.  
**A/N:** Greg brought this up with me yesterday during lunch, I figured I'd give it a shot. It's kinda lame tho. But dude, Isshin and Shunsui could be _brothers._ Don't you think?

* * *

"Nanao-chan! Ne, Naaaanao-chaaaan!"

Ise Nanao pointedly ignored the calls of her captain and kept walking, knowing that anything he wanted of her at this late hour had to do with either alcohol or inappropriate sexual harassment and nothing really important.

She continued quickly down the hall, the looming threat of Shunsui not far behind her driving her forward and hopefully, to the relatively safety of the commissary.

Upon rounding a corner, she bumped rather forcibly into someone, bouncing off of the solid form and almost falling, save that two big arms reached out to brace her before she could.

"Oof!"

"Ah, sorry, sorry. You okay there, sweetheart?"

She frowned, ready to look up and tell whoever it was that was steadying her to let go as she was not his 'sweetheart' nor would she ever be.

Except when she did look up, she bit her tongue. "Ah…Kurosaki-taichou, sir!"

Isshin grinned down at her smarmily. "Yo, pretty girl. Didn't hurt you did I?" he asked, expression painfully similar to Shunsui's.

"No, I'm not hurt sir," she responded brusquely, hastily disentangling herself from his hold.

"Want me to examine you to make sure? I'm a doctor, ya know."

She instinctively took a step backwards.

"No thank you, sir. I'm sure I'm fine."

"Nanaooooo-chan! Oi, Nannao-chan! Where are you, eh?"

She flinched slightly upon hearing that, noticing that Kyouraku's voice was growing steadily closer. "Um…I have to go. Excuse me, Kurosaki-taichou."

"Eh, wait a second, will ya? I'm lookin' for Shuu-chan… you seen him around here?"

"No, can't say that I have, sir."

"Damn."

"Excuse me sir," she repeated, before walking off quickly.

Isshin frowned, watching her go. "In a bit of a rush, eh? Too bad, too bad, she's cute." Shrugging to himself, he continued on his way.

"Shuuuuu-chan! Ne, Shuuuuu-chan! Where are you? Shuuuuuuu-chaaaaan! Oi!"

Setting a quick pace through the narrow corridors, Nanao only paused upon running headfirst into a rather haggard looking Hisagi Shuuhei.

"Naaanao-chaaaaan!"

"Shuuuuu-chaaaaan!"

They stared at each other for a second.

"I didn't see you if you didn't see me."

Hisagi nodded. "Agreed."

They kept walking.

**END**


	86. Battle for the Bed

**  
86.**

**Title:** Battle for the Bed  
**Rating:** Pg-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **RenjixByakuya  
**Word Count:** 537  
**Warning/s: **OOC silliness, but no spoilers.  
**Summary: **Renji takes up a lot of space.  
**Dedication: **JaB- sort of inspired by the art dump. XD 3  
**A/N:** Three gens in a row and I needed something yaoi to make myself feel accomplished.

* * *

He should have figured it would be like this long before they started sleeping together given his vice-captain's personality, but even now, the whole thing still manages to astound him a little bit.

Renji is a bed hog.

Arms and legs are everywhere and Kuchiki Byakuya has been subject to many a nighttime kick in the ribs from the other man, many a sleepless night either clenched up in Abarai's grip like a boneless stuffed animal or pathetically curled up on a miraculously unoccupied corner, fetal position and all.

It's the worst on hot nights because Renji kicks the sheets off and stretches out every so often, in unconscious search of parts of the bed that have remained cool and out of contact with body heat.

Sometimes a hand will be shoved into Byakuya's face, or a leg forced between both of his, maybe even a nose pressed up right against his throat.

Renji-with-the-naughty-dreams especially likes to do these sorts of things, and Byakuya thinks that being woken up with certain _things_ being thrust against his stomach is a special terror he will never be able to get over no matter how many years may pass.

Sometimes he's tempted to just shove the big idiot off the bed and be done with it, or relegate Renji to the couch forever just so he can once again get a good night's rest.

Because really, it's getting a little ridiculous when he's woken up at least twice a week because he can't breathe due to the other shinigami's arms being wrapped tight around him, shoving his face flush against a chest or a shoulder or yes, even a stomach.

If he just rolled Renji off the bed, he's almost certain the redhead wouldn't even wake up on impact.

And at least there's plenty of room down there.

The thought crosses his mind for the umpteenth time in so many nights, he currently being held prisoner by Abarai's arms and right leg, which are thrown around and over him like iron bars.

If he grabs and rolls a certain way, it would be a piece of cake to toss the redhead over the opposite side of the bed and onto the ground.

Easy.

But then Renji smiles in his sleep and murmurs Byakuya's name, arms pulling the trapped captain closer and nuzzling his throat gently.

Byakuya curses to himself. After that, he just doesn't have the heart to wake the moron up anymore.

So he resolves to buckle down instead, and gets as comfortable as physically possible in his limited space. Renji's warm, solid arms cage him in and the younger man's breath is heavy in his ear.

Shutting his eyes, the sixth division captain tries to force sleep by telling himself that it's best to leave Renji as he is for now.

Come morning Byakuya can get his revenge.

It's been a while since he ordered his division to do shuttle runs during morning warm-ups, and as well rested as Renji is going to be tomorrow, the sixth division captain figures that the big idiot will probably be able to do two-hundred easily.

Better yet, three-hundred.

Somehow, Byakuya manages to fall asleep with a smile on his face too.

**END**


	87. Experimentation

**87.**

**Title:** Experimentation  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** IbaxIkkaku (But not really?), mentions ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 276  
**Warning/s: **OOC crack, but no spoilers.  
**Summary: **Iba and Ikkaku are curious.  
**Dedication: **Anyone who saw OTP possibilities between these two in their fight scene too. :P  
**A/N:** I dunno, I'm cracked out and I have a paper to write that I'm obviously avoiding AGAIN.

* * *

Iba and Ikkaku observed as Shuuhei glided past them and into the mailroom, nodding in absent greeting while on some errand or another, an idiotic little half-smile plastered to his face.

"What's with him lately?" Iba asked the bald shinigami beside him in a gruff whisper, arching a brow and staring after Hisagi rather perplexedly.

Ikkaku snorted. "Whaddya think?"

Iba shrugged.

"Che. Goofy smile like that…"

"Ooooh."

Iba grinned and wagged his eyebrows. "That's some stuff, eh? Ayasekawa's got some energy if Shuuhei's been comin' in every mornin' lookin' like that."

Ikkaku rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Yeah well, better than him walkin' in with that scowl of his all the time, I guess. But still… it's disgustin' man. He could at least _try_ to make it less obvious. I mean, _I_ don't wanna have to think about what his happy mornin' attitude means."

"Mmm, yeah, totally, man."

Shuuhei, oblivious to the hard looks the other two were throwing in his direction, started humming as he went through his mailbox. His smile didn't even falter as he grasped the four-inch stack of morning paperwork.

Iba and Ikkaku watched him in silence as he turned around and floated out of the room, undoubtedly back to ninth division headquarters.

"I wonder…is sleepin' with another guy really that great, ya think?" Iba queried, stroking his chin speculatively.

"Dunno."

They thought about it in silence for a moment, before turning to look at each other.

"Uh… so… wanna try it?" Ikkaku asked.

It took a second for the both of them to register what was happening here.

They simultaneously spun around to face opposite directions.

"N-nope."

"Uh…good. Me neither."

**END**


	88. Ishida's Talk

**  
88.**

**Title:** Ishida's Talk  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** IchigoxIshida  
**Word Count:** 352  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for uh…Ishida's dad. Sort of. Like, his name. C'mon, people!   
**Summary: **Companion drabble to #61 (the Alternative Talk)- Ishida recalls the heartwarming sex talk he had with his father.   
**Dedication: **mellfromva for giving me the idea- I totally just yoinked this out of my own comment and made a fic about it. I know, I'm a cheap ass.  
**A/N:** I was going to write pure crack, but it ended up just kind of being sappy. Mreh, I dunno. I need to write my paper like NOW.

* * *

Ishida really didn't see the point of Kurosaki's constant complaints. In the Quincy's opinion, it had been high time for Ichigo to fess up to his father about his sexual preferences anyway.

And puppets really were very creative.

"Oi, what're you smirkin' about, asshole?"

Ishida shook his head. "You should be happy that you're dad takes such pains to give you such elaborate displays of affection and education," he told the other boy honestly.

Flushing, the shinigami looked away. "Yeah, well, he shouldn't have brought Karin and Yuzu into the whole thing, ya know. They're just kids!"

Ishida rolled his eyes and decided that telling Ichigo that he wasn't half as mature as either of his little sisters would be detrimental to his comfort seeing as to how he was currently using the loud-mouthed idiot as a pillow. Kurosaki's rage at being called on his immaturity would surely cause him to toss the archer off and go off on a long tirade about how he _was too _mature.

"Ne…Ishida."

"Hmmm?"

"Uh…what'd your dad do for ya know… the talk?"

Ishida frowned. "Hmmm."

"You don't have to say or anythin' I don't really care, ya know? Just curious. Sorta."

"It was very simple," Ishida explained noncommittally.

"Yeah?"

"I think I was eleven. I asked him where babies came from while I was in his office…"

"_Ne, tousan…where do babies come from?"_

"_Copulation," Ryuuken replied impatiently. "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to." _

"_Hai…" _

Ichigo burst out laughing. "Man, that's sad."

Ishida would have been annoyed at Kurosaki's lack of sympathy except that he wanted Ichigo to have a moment where he appreciated Isshin's efforts at being a good (if occasionally psychotic) father.

Because when one thought about it, Ichigo was very lucky to have a parent like that, and Ishida felt that the idiot should recognize it, even if only for a moment.

So Uryuu waited.

And the second that moment was up, he very calmly said, "So…he brought Sado into it, did he? Maybe we should give that a try one of these days."

Ichigo threw a pillow at him.

**END**


	89. Bloodline

**  
89.**

**Title:** Bloodline  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Isshin, Urahara, KyourakuxUkitake (but really ambiguously. In fact, barely even there. Just one suggestive line and it's never spoken of again, really)  
**Word Count:** 780  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Soul Society and EVERYTHING BEYOND THUS FAR PRETTY MUCH.   
**Summary: **Family is a powerful thing.  
**Dedication: **Greg again, for making me make this association in the first place with his comparison on the similarities between Shunsui and Isshin. THEY COULD BE BROTHERS.  
**A/N:** GRAGGGG Paper GRAGGGG… (In other words, forgive me 'cause really, I'm too stupid to write coherently right now.)

* * *

"Teeeheee my kawaii-otouto is a captain now tooooo!" Shunsui giggled drunkenly, pulling Isshin into a headlock and knuckling his fist into the younger shinigami's cheek.

"Oi, cut it out ya damn old man!" Isshin protested, struggling against his brother's embarrassing display of public affection.

"Naaaa, but I-chin is all grown up now, I can't help but be so happy!" Shunsui intoned pathetically, wiping a mock tear from his eye. "It's so touching as an older brother and the one you always looked up to…"

"Who looked up to you?" Isshin demanded, scoffing. "Na, Jyuu-nii, tell the perverted old man to stop with the baby talk, yeah?" he pleaded, turning to the third party present for help, using his big puppy eyes as incentive.

Ukitake only laughed quietly and reached out to ruffle Isshin's spiky hair. "On your promotion… omedetou," he said simply, smiling beatifically at his little brother by association.

The apples of Isshin's cheeks pinked lightly and he scoffed, looking away. "Che… all of you guys just like to pick on the newbie, eh?"

"Oi, how come Jyuu-chan gets away with it, eh? Eh? Aren't I your most precious older brother?" Shunsui whined, laying his chin on Isshin's shoulder and looking up at the younger man imploringly.

Isshin punched him in the nose. "Back off, ya pervy old man."

"Hidoi!" Shunsui cried, running off to grab Ukitake's sleeve and whine. "Naaa, Jyuu-chan, why doesn't my little brother respect me?"

"Because he's a loudmouthed hot-headed brat!" Another voice chimed in cheerfully, the sound of a fan being flicked closed accompanying the man's cheerful laugh.

"Ki-chan understands!" Shunsui exclaimed, spinning around to greet the newcomer.

"Of course I do, Shun-chan! I'm always on your side!" Urahara responded passionately, sparkling as he extended his hand towards his longtime friend in an overly dramatic gesture.

Tears of joy sparkling in the corners of his eyes, Shunsui took the hand and pulled Kisuke in for a faux kiss, turning his back towards a bemused Ukitake and an exasperated Isshin so the two of them could make as many disgusting fake slurping noises as possible.

"Oi, you two perverts, cut it out, will ya? People could walk in at any time, ya know," Isshin prompted after it went on for a full minute.

Shunsui stood up and grinned, depositing a smirking Urahara back on his feet. "He doesn't understand our love, Ki-chan."

Kisuke laughed. "Maybe he does," he quipped, sauntering up to the younger shinigami and resting an elbow on his shoulder. "Jealous, Isshi?"

Isshin rolled his eyes. "A bunch of crazy old sickos. I'm gonna be surrounded by 'em all the time now."

Urahara's grin broadened. "Welcome to being a captain, Isshi-chan! You'll be an old pervert just like us before long, promise!" the blonde stated confidently, bopping Isshin on the end of the nose with his closed fan.

"Che. I'll never become like you'n aniki," Isshin vowed, crossing his arms sullenly, the ever-present wrinkle in his brow deepening. "Outta all of you, I wanna be like Jyuu-nii."

Ukitake laughed serenely. "A voice of reason, finally."

"Hai, hai," Urahara capitulated easily, sharing a knowing smile with the elder Kyouraku. Because even if everyone else didn't, at least the two of _them_ knew that Kisuke was never wrong about anything.

Even way back then, Shunsui thinks that perhaps Kisuke had already known exactly what was in store for Kyouraku Isshin.

"Aaaaah, good times, those."

But all he can do these is reminisce, thinking of what a nice memory those days together had been. Shunsui remembers every word and every expression of the hot-blooded, spiky-headed loudmouth his younger brother had been, and each recollection brings a sad, thoughtful smile to his face.

He wonders if Kisuke's prediction would have come true eventually, thinks that it's too bad that his brother was lost to them so early, that he really would have liked to see what kind of man Isshin would have matured into had he been given the chance.

As it is, all that remains is those precious memories of his darling little brother lost to him a little over two decades ago.

But one day, when Kyouraku meets a powerful intruder named Kurosaki Ichigo for the first time, something in his heart leaps in instant recognition and he is stunned into momentary silence. Even if the name is different now, everything else is exactly the same in that energetic, spiky-headed, brash young man who stormed Soul Society with the power of his bloodline thrumming loud and clear through his veins.

It's all exactly the same.

The relief is enough to almost knock Shunsui over.

All he says is, "Heh. That damned brat. I shoulda known."

**END**


	90. Paperwork

**90.**

**Title:** Paperwork  
**Rating:** PG-13 for cussing?  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Renji, Byakuya  
**Word Count:** 512  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers really, but I kind of see this as a post-Soul Society arc version of a more laid back sixth division.  
**Summary: **OOC stupidity- Renji never thought being a shinigami was mostly deskwork.   
**Dedication: **Kelly- thanks for the support today when I wanted to curl up and be angry at someone. STUPID RENT.  
**A/N:** I dunno, I like the idea of Byakuya kind of being a holier-than-thou snarky bastard to his vice-captain just 'cuz Renji's such a loveable _idiot_. The thought of Byakuya messing with him a little _entertains_ me. I just can't write it to save my life. Oh wells.

* * *

"ARGH!"

Abarai Renji screamed once in frustration before looking up from his desk to the iceberg known as his captain.

Byakuya, despite Renji's childish outburst, did not deign to look up from his work.

Renji muttered something about "high and mighty assholes" to himself and looked back down at the formidable stack of papers that had to be done today.

Several hours later and the redheaded vice-captain began to rhythmically bang his head on his desk. "Geez, I didn't sign on for this crap! Where's the battles? Where's the evil to defeat? What's so damn evil about an application for transfer of squad assignment that I've gotta take care of it _right now_?"

Byakuya paused and looked up from the missive he was writing.

Renji fell silent, awaiting some sort of reaction, some sort of confirmation that indeed, even the great Kuchiki Byakuya found such things as paperwork tiresome.

Byakuya set his quill down. "I'm finished."

Renji blinked.

"WHAT?"

Byakuya stood regally, and grasping the perfect stack of _finished _paperwork in his hands, moved to call an assistant to have them delivered to their appropriate departments. "I'm finished," he repeated calmly, as if Renji's outburst had been a genuine question rather than an indignant squawk of protest.

"H-h-how?" Abarai sputtered, throwing down his own quill in disgusted disbelief and jumping to his feet. "You have more than me. You _always_ have more than me! How are you _done_?"

The older man allowed a small, indulgent smile, and reached out, picking up Renji's quill and putting it back in the young hot-head's hands. An almost parental look in his eye, the Kuchiki clan's great son waited for Abarai to end his tirade.

"You must have cheated!" Renji accused, pointing his returned writing accessory in Byakuya's face. "How the hell is this possible?"

"Are you finished?" Byakuya asked patiently, swatting the feather away from his nose. "Or is there anything else you feel the need to say right this moment?"

It would be impolite to interrupt his vice-captain in the middle of his daily temper tantrum, after all.

Renji only pouted at the moderate tone his captain addressed him with. "No."

"I'm sure if you concentrate, Renji, you can be finished soon too."

"I'm not five, dammit," he scoffed petulantly.

Byakuya bit back a smile. "I never said you were."

"Che. You think this is funny, dontcha, asshole?"

"My, our little one is fussy today, isn't he? Did you not get your afternoon nap?"

"I hate you so much."

"Yes, but you still have paperwork to attend to, fukutaichou," Byakuya reminded him with the utmost civility.

"Che…asshole! Ya know what? _You're_ the evil that we should be fightin' instead of doin' paperwork!"

Byakuya turned a wicked eye on his subordinate. "Very well then, Renji. If you so wish, come do battle with this evil entity."

The redhead's expression turned gleeful at the thought of abandoning his paperwork to have a good spar with his captain. "Really?"

"Of course really," Byakuya responded evenly. "But only once you've finished your paperwork. Like a good boy."

"…die."

**END**


	91. Sick

**  
91.**

**Title:** Sick  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** GanjyuxHanatarou, vaguely.  
**Word Count:** 828  
**Warning/s: **Er, nothing that I can think of.  
**Summary: **Companion drabble to #62 (Study Buddy)- Ganjyu studied a little _too_ hard.  
**Dedication: **Beck- sankyuu for the oishii cake!   
**A/N:** I wanted sap, I came up with something in-between sap and REALLY STUPID. But I think I'm just moody still from earlier, and need to take a nap. Or just stop writing for the night and do my homework OMG.

* * *

"Oi, stop fussin' would ya? I'm not dyin' or anything. Che."

Hanatarou laughed nervously, the back of his hand cool as it rested gently against Ganjyu's hot forehead. "Just ah, just checking your temperature, Ganjyu-san."

The Shiba scoffed. "I'm tellin' ya, 's just a cold. Would'ya sit down? Geez."

"Mmmm, I told you it wasn't any good to work yourself so hard, especially right before exams," the fourth division shinigami clucked, removing his hand from Ganjyu's face to dig around in his medical bag. "I'll make you something to help you sleep, ne? That way you can be rested for your test tomorrow."

"Ta hell with that!" Ganjyu protested, causing himself to erupt into another fit of coughing.

"Aaah, Ganjyu-san!"

"I gotta study," the larger man intoned again, once he' regained enough of his faculties to speak without hacking phlegm all over the place. "I'm not gonna bow down to a simple cold, alright? 'S no big deal!" He moved to sit up.

And was forced to stop halfway when two surprisingly strong hands pushed up against his chest, urging him back towards the bed. "It would be best if you rested, I think, Ganjyu-san," Hanatarou said quietly but insistently, avoiding the sick man's eyes.

"Hana…" Ganjyu looked down at Yamada's smaller hands.

"You already know all of the material we covered together," Hanatarou explained, smiling shakily though his eyes were still trained on the bedspread. "So um…please rest."

"I just wanna be sure," Ganjyu pressed, though he didn't brush away the arms restraining him, even if he could have easily.

Brow creased, Yamada removed his hands himself and folded them back into his lap. "It's just, when someone is sick they should rest. Especially if tomorrow is an important day," the little death god explained softly, like maybe he was afraid that Ganjyu wouldn't understand what he was getting at.

Or that he'd toss the little guy out of the room and go on studying anyway.

Ganjyu sort of felt like an ass suddenly. And the worst part was that he didn't know _why_ he was feeling like an ass when all he'd wanted to do was better prepare for his big test tomorrow.

He eyed Hanatarou and after a minute, sighed in frustrated resignation. There wasn't a person on the planet that was more skilled at looking so cutely pathetic. "Oi… uh, Hana…"

"S-sorry!" Hanatarou interrupted suddenly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Ahaha… I don't know why I was… I guess I just… sorry, Ganjyu-san!"

Ganjyu blinked, because Hanatarou always had to sound so damned earnest and worried and make no sense whatsoever. There was no need, especially since really, a nice guy like Hanatarou shouldn't have had any cause to be concerned about a guy like Shiba Ganjyu.

Damned brat.

"Oi, I'm not dyin' or anythin' ya know," Ganjyu murmured, half trying to reassure Yamada and half attempting to hold his ground (though at this point even _he _realized he was being pushed back from it anyway).

"Of course Ganjyu-san won't die from something like this!" Hanatarou acknowledged quickly, forgetting his trepidation and looking sharply up into the youngest Shiba's eyes. Then, remembering himself, he quickly cast his gaze back to his lap. "It's just um… I guess, I'm selfish, because I think I would feel better if Ganjyu-san was sleeping and getting better. S-s-sorry!"

Ganjyu sighed. Talk about a TKO. "Oi, tako…what're you apologizin' for, huh? It's annoying! Didn't I tell ya that that's the reason why you're always gettin' picked on?"

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I mean, I didn't…"

Ganjyu rolled his eyes and reached out to rest his big hand on top of Hanatarou's head, effectively shutting him up for the moment. "Che. For a guy who wants me to sleep, you sure make a lot of noise."

"Sorr… eh?"

"So, you gonna let me call it a night or what? 'Cuz if not, I've got things ta do you know."

Hanatarou looked at him for a moment, silent.

The silence stretched for a bit.

"Oi oi oi… you don't have to act so surprised! I can be nice, ya know! I can be agreeable! This is me bein' agreeable!" Ganjyu protested, growing indignant as Hanatarou's prolonged shock began to grate on his nerves. "Oi, ya hear me! I…"

And then the runt smiled. "Ganjyu-san!"

Like, really, really smiled. Like, tilted his head and looked at Ganjyu and _sparkled_ smiled.

Ganjyu groaned and quickly lay back down, pulling the covers over his head. "I'm goin' to sleep. Get outta here."

"Hai!"

Pausing on his way to the door, Hanatarou threw one last relieved look over his shoulder. "Oyasumi, Ganjyu-san," he murmured before blowing out the candles and quietly slipping out of the room.

Ganjyu listened to the sounds of Hanatarou's light footsteps to fade into silence before he rolled onto his back, pulling the sheets down from over his head.

He turned and stared at the door for a bit.

"….g'night."

**END**


	92. The First Step

**92.**

**Title:** The First Step  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Kenpachi, Ichigo  
**Word Count:** 329  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers by proxy to drabble #60, but no specific ones in this little drabble.   
**Summary: **Sort-of companion drabble to #60 (Captain Complex)- Ichigo shares some manga.  
**Dedication: **To everyone I've pushed and will push Ippo on. GO IPPO!  
**A/N:** So yes, recently we've all been very obsessed with Hajime no Ippo because OMG DONE SO WELL AND YOU GET SO INTO IT. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find any fandom for it and I haven't read the manga yet, so I don't trust myself to write any fic when we're this far behind (OMG Ippo, 70+ volumes! O.o). Anyway, if you like me, you'll watch it. Then you'll thank me, no joke. It's THAT good. 76 episodes and I feel like not one of those was wasted on anything needless ever. LOVE.

* * *

"Fight me, Kurosaki!"

Ichigo sighed and looked up from the manga he was reading. "I'm not on duty," he stated, brow furrowing as Zaraki's intense spiritual energy engulfed the area around them. He went back to reading.

"Oi! Put down that book and battle me! You never want to battle anymore!" Kenpachi complained, sounding almost petulant as Ichigo sat in the shade reading and pointedly ignoring his demands for a fight.

"Never gonna happen again," Ichigo responded drolly, flipping the page.

Kenpachi took an experimental swipe at him anyway.

The temporary fifth division captain's guard went up and Kenpachi's sword ricocheted off of Ichigo's reiatsu, causing a narrow wound to open up on Zaraki's chest.

"Che…yarou. You got so good at that so fast and ya don't even wanna fight," Kenpachi accused, sounding more whiny than intimidating.

Ichigo ignored him.

After a minute, "What're you readin' anyway, brat?"

"Ippo."

"Eh?"

Ichigo motioned to the stack of manga beside him. "Go ahead and take a look if you want."

Pause.

"Er, you can read, right?"

"Che. Should kill you right now, damned brat."

Eyeing the orange-headed kid, Kenpachi lowered his sword disappointedly and sat beside Kurosaki in the shade, hoping that his constant, looming presence would eventually annoy the young captain into capitulating to fight. Out of sheer boredom, the eleventh division captain reached over and picked up volume one of the thing Ichigo called Ippo.

Three hours later and a desperate Kurosaki Ichigo was fleeing madly through the streets of seireitei, a chilling aura of maniacal death hot on his heels.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ONLY BROUGHT TEN VOLUMES WITH YOU?"

"I MEAN THAT I ONLY BROUGHT TEN VOLUMES WITH ME, YOU CRAZY ASSHOLE!"

"MORE! NOW!"

"WHAT PART OF ONLY TEN VOLUMES DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?"

In hindsight, Ichigo supposed that maybe he should've learned his lesson after Renji had pretty much done the exact same thing yesterday.

But at least Renji had been easier to knock unconscious.

**END**


	93. Chasing After You

**  
93.**

**Title: **Chasing After You  
**Rating:** PG (some cussing?)  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Renji, Byakuya  
**Word Count:** 785  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Soul Society Arc  
**Summary: **Renji and Byakuya as they recuperate.   
**Dedication: **Yoshi- thanks again for driving me to work yesterday.  
**A/N:** I don't know what it is about Byakuya and Renji that I see as snarky and evil to each other. But I do, and thus I have this fic. And while I can't explain it as anything but OOC, I kind of really do hope their relationship evolves so that there's more talking, however mean it is, with each other. I can dream, can't I?

* * *

Up until this moment in the hospital room together, Renji thought that he'd always be running after the shadow of Kuchiki Byakuya, the angry street urchin with something to prove to the kid who lived in the big house at the end of the street. 

Up until now, every day had been another possibility to him, a way to watch Kuchiki Byakuya, the cold, unfeeling bastard, and find a way to pound him into next week.

That's the vigor of youth, he supposes. Or something like it.

He didn't even notice when he started to respect the expressionless iceberg.

Looking back now, he thinks that maybe it's something about constantly running after someone else for so long that it inevitably makes you look deeper than you normally would at them, and before he knew it, here he was, sitting in a hospital room while his captain, with that very regal bearing of his, explained why he'd acted the way he had.

Renji doesn't want to be misunderstood though. He still thinks Byakuya's a holier-than-thou bastard.

But he's a respectable one, and there's something more to him than the eerie calm he shows the rest of the world, whether he really wants it to be there or not.

Renji thinks Byakuya's bad attitude is merely a consequence of his own overbearing, self-flagellating angst.

And Byakuya, the prick, thinks Renji's stupidity stems from malnutrition at a crucial age of early brain development in his childhood.

They don't really get along all that well, obviously, but that's just something they've acknowledged through the years they've spent working closely with one another.

Renji knows it's possible to like someone and still not get along with them.

And really, that's the whole problem, because after chasing Kuchiki Byakuya for so long with the intention of kicking his ass off of Soul Society's plane of existence, the bastard still ended up kind of getting to him.

Because now that Byakuya's stopped walking ahead of him, now that he's stopped and turned around and acknowledged that Renji's there right behind him, it's hard to remember what made Abarai angry enough to want to wring the bastard's neck.

At least, that's the case right now, while they're sitting in a quiet hospital room, both cut up in so many places that they could slurp ramen through their armpits if they wanted to.

It's quiet in the room, and Renji finds it hard to want to punch Byakuya as much as he remembers wanting to because Kuchiki-taichou looks tired and kind of embarrassed, though no amount of wrongness or degradation or bad bed hair can make him seem less imperious than he always is.

So for right now, Renji just sits quietly by and tells himself that he'll resume his pursuit of Byakuya tomorrow, when they're both less pathetic and he can muster up the strength to remind himself of why he hates the bastard.

He's sure that his captain will give him a reason to.

Five minutes later, Byakuya says, "You look like you're in pain, Renji. Please try not to think too hard while you're as injured as you are."

And Renji smiles back at him, because that's what he's been waiting for. There it is. And for the first time, because Byakuya's sitting across from him just as injured and just as pathetic, he feels like they're on some sort of level playing field. "Sorry sir, tryin' to figure out how it's possible for you to keep your sour prissy face on even with your hair as messed up as it is. Just boggles me, really."

Byakuya looks surprised at Renji's unprecedented boldness towards him, and for a moment, just blinks dumbly back at the vice-captain.

It does Renji's street-rat heart good.

But then, Byakuya allows a smile that makes his eyes glitter in a way that the redhead can't say he really likes. "Well, well. It's about time."

It's Renji's turn to blink.

Byakuya just resumes that high blown attitude of his, settling down into his sheets even though his hair _is_ a mess and he doesn't look anything like the royalty he is. "I was beginning to think you'd never catch up, Renji."

It takes a moment for Abarai to process the concession, but after a little bit, he breaks out into a big, shark-like smile. "Just bidin' my time, sir," he responds casually, and they share a look that holds a world of promise.

And Renji thinks that even though he'll never really get along with the little prince, at least from now on, he's going to get to see what it's like to walk next to him instead.

It'll be easier to kick his ass from there.

**END**


	94. Workaholic

**  
94.**

**Title: **Workaholic  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 515  
**Warning/s: **Just the yaoi one (nudity, anyone?), no spoilers.  
**Summary: **Shuuhei brings the office home with him, Yumichika doesn't like it.   
**Dedication: **Anyone who can sit through this whole thing? shrug  
**A/N:** Because I noticed I hadn't written them for a while. Okay, since #79 really, but that's still a long time for me. So they're back, though not in the sequel to #79. At least, not yet. --;;

* * *

"I'm naked!"

"Not anything I haven't already seen!" Shuuhei shouted back moodily, hunching closer to his desk and over the paperwork he didn't get to finish in the office.

"I'm _really_ naked!" Yumi persisted cheerfully.

SPLASH.

"Now I'm naked _and_ wet!"

Shuuhei clenched his teeth.

He would not give in, especially to such an obvious, shameless ploy.

He was already very far behind on his work (because of a _certain someone_) and couldn't afford to slack any more. Which was why he had been bringing the office home with him. He'd planned on catching up during overtime.

Ayasekawa hated it, for the record.

The sound of deceptively happy splashing and Yumi's soft humming floated across the room to him, and the vice-captain chanced a look out of the corner of his eye, spying that the door to the bathing room had been purposefully left open just a crack.

Ayasekawa was such a bastard sometimes.

"Wheee, bubbles!"

"I'm _working,_ Yumi!" Hisagi announced to the other shinigami in annoyance. "I have lots of work to do!"

"So do it!" Yumi responded easily, voice seemingly elevated for no other reason than the distance. Shuuhei hated it when his lover got all calm like that, because that usually meant some kind of mindfuck in Hisagi's near future that he would be helpless against no matter how much he braced before hand.

"You've been doing your work here every night for a _week_ now after all. Why should I mind? I'm just taking a bath. With bubbles. Naked!" Yumi continued, in a tone that might have been classified as so cheerful it was _the most evil thing in the world_.

"Fine! Good! I'm working then!" Shuuhei replied stubbornly, turning back to his forms. "This is me working!"

"And this is me taking a bath, love!" Yumichika answered with a little laugh, which after a moment, sort of shifted into a soft moan and the sound of gently sloshing water.

Shuuhei's quill snapped in his hand.

"Yumi! That's not fair!"

"Mmmm, what's not fair?"

"Stop it."

"Aaa…stop what?"

"I'm _working_!"

"Nnngh…then work. I'm just…aah…taking a bath, love!"

"Like hell you are!"

"Aaaa…how would you know? You're… nnnh…all the way…at your desk….mmmm…"

Shuuhei was dripping ink all over his important paperwork.

Yumi was probably dripping water all over the…

And he was…

Shuuhei looked forlornly between his now stained papers and the invitingly open door, tendrils of fragrant steam escaping through it, along with the sounds of Yumi's quiet sighs.

Standing, the ninth division vice-captain chanted "not fair not fair not fair not fair," aloud to himself all the way to the bathroom.

"I hate you," he pointedly told Yumichika upon entering, closing the door behind him and slipping out of his Hakama anyway. "I have work to do you know."

Yumi smiled up at him innocently from the tub, hand absently stroking his own soapy chest. "Ne, Shuuhei… I'm _naked_."

On his lover's amused welcome, Shuuhei couldn't hold back his small smile. "Yeah, you are."

He was so far behind on his work that another day hardly made a difference anyway.

**END**


	95. OMG Their Love is So… Um… Yeah

**95.**

**Title: **OMG Their Love is So… Um… Yeah.  
**Rating: **PG-13   
**Pairing/Character/s:** KenpachixIchigo (but not seriously)  
**Word Count:** 334  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for parts of the Soul Society arc, I don't remember the chapter numbers.  
**Summary: **OOC Crack- Kenpachi just wants to fight Ichigo.  
**Dedication: **Triste- though I have no idea what this is at all. It just kind of popped out of me.  
**A/N:** In defiance over complaints that deal with unconventional pairings etc. etc. Well, it's supposed to be. But I think it just turned out rather silly and pointless. Whatever, I don't have to justify myself to you! Kenpachi and Ichigo really love each other! They do! Okay, I'm done, really. Teehee.

* * *

The rumor around Soul Society was that Zaraki Kenpachi was stalking Kurosaki Ichigo.

He was not, for the record.

He was just waiting for an opportunity.

After that bit of news got out, the speculation changed to theories about how Zaraki Kenpachi was going to rape Kurosaki Ichigo.

He was _not_, for the record.

He just wanted to _fight_ the little punk bastard.

And while he was at it, let the record show that despite the fact that he kind of got off on violence, his wanting to fight Kurosaki _still _had no correlation with the whole rape thing whatsoever.

Kenpachi was going to _fight_ Kurosaki Ichigo. He wasn't stalking him, he wasn't planning on raping him, and he didn't have pink-and-white feelings of mushy love for the kid, like some of the more outlandish Soul Society gossip theorists were speculating.

He just wanted the kid to know that his ass belonged to Zaraki.

Wait a second. Not like that.

Perverts.

It was battle! Pure battle! Bloodlust! Except without lust! Just…blood! And the spirit of men who loved to fight! But who very emphatically didn't love each other. Just the fight, dammit!

A fourth division psychiatric specialist suggested that Zaraki was sublimating.

He punched the know-nothing bastard through a wall and stormed out of the ward.

The next guy that they sent him to talk to said that he was probably fawning after Kurosaki because of an inner masochistic streak that they could work out of him if they talked about his childhood enough.

Kenpachi would have punched the asshole through a wall too, except that Unohana was in the room keeping watch over things and she was kind of scary, though he'd never admit it ever.

So instead, he got up and left and vowed never to listen to Yamamoto's crazy psychiatric consultation requests ever again.

He just wanted to fight Ichigo again, dammit.

He did _not_ have a crush.

That would be so… uncool.

And what the hell did "sublimating" mean anyway?

**END**


	96. Come With Me

**96.**

**Title: **Come With Me  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Gin, Aizen, Kira… could be read as pairing stuff, but not really in there as far as I can see. o.o  
**Word Count:** 756  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc, sort of.   
**Summary: **A tradition in seireitei continues.  
**Dedication: **Francis-oniisan. Want to come to yaoi con? XD  
**A/N:** I dunno if I like this one, because it's kind of incoherent. And tense fucks with me all the time. Oh wells. --;;

* * *

He remembers what it was like himself, the ceremony with which the captains walked the mighty halls of the academy, excited young shinigami waiting in formal assembly for those powerful legends of seireitei to enter the auditorium and cast their lots for these new, fresh faces.

Gin remembers how he'd sat on his knees, head only partially bowed as he'd smiled up at the captains while they'd walked in, challenging their stony faces with his eyes as the ceremony commenced.

Hours of deliberation were required, the captains having poured over each and every graduate's grades, special skills, instructor recommendations, physical types and spiritual classifications in order to find the ones that had the most potential to benefit each captain's specific division. And it all culminated here, hinging on this yearly meeting between old and young, between the leaders of today and those who might one day be leaders themselves.

This is where the final decision is made, where a captain can look upon the shinigami who the previous night, had only been statistics on paper, and decide whether they wish to accept him or her into their ranks.

Shinigami who have graduated from the academy are plenty, but those actually selected and admitted into the Gotei-13 are far more limited in number.

Gin remembers the ceremony, the nervousness of everyone in his class save for he and Kuchiki Byakuya, he not caring and the other already guaranteed for admission long ago.

But what Ichimaru remembers most about that day is catching the eye of Aizen Sousuke as that magnificent man walked past him, a serene smile on his face as he fearlessly returned Gin's probing gaze with an infinitely confident aura, a thousand times more fearsome in his openness than Ichimaru's purposeful enigmatic persona could ever hope to be.

Gin remembers having felt, for the first time in a long time, a spark of genuine interest.

Later, after the choices were made and he found himself with the uniform of the fifth division on his back, Gin recalls asking Aizen-taichou very boldly, why he'd picked Gin to join his team.

Aizen had only laughed and said in a warm voice that cut to the very depths of Ichimaru's infamous indifference, "Because you looked like an interesting guy."

Now, as a captain himself, as one of the thirteen pillars of seireitei's power base, Gin understands that aura of calm superiority as he walks through the halls more than ever before, the product of years under the guidance of peerless Aizen-taichou himself.

And as he steps through the ranks of newly graduated shinigami, there is one head bowed lower than all the others, one that radiates an earnest anxiety and honest desire to please.

It instantly catches his eye.

Because Gin can sense the young man's fear and determination like they're tangible, and as he walks by, Ichimaru-taihcou thinks that this one is the exact opposite of everything he had been when he'd entered this room for the very first time, many years ago.

There are so many good intentions oozing out of that rigidly bowed form that Ichimaru can taste it on his tongue.

It's too sweet to bear.

So without a moment's hesitation, he reaches out with one hand and rests it atop that golden head.

"Eh?"

Huge eyes blink back at him in surprise and Gin's smile broadens because while this wide-eyed, trembling young man is everything that he never was, Ichimaru thinks that it's the same for him now as it must have been for Aizen those many years ago.

He feels a spark.

Without pausing to think what it all might mean, Ichimaru extends his other hand to that starry-eyed youth. "You…come with me."

"Ah, yessir!"

"What's your name?"

"Kira, sir."

Gin smiles and a becoming little blush blossoms like roses across those young cheeks.

"Hmmm, Kira-chan, is it?"

"Hai!"

"Well…is it okay if you become one of mine, do you think?"

"Hai!" And with a look of awed, absolute trust, a sweetly trembling hand is placed into Ichimaru's outstretched one.

"Well… let's go together then, okay?" he asks, pulling cute little Kira-chan to his feet.

He is graced with a beautifully innocent, sweetly shy smile. "Y-yessir!"

Gin's heart swells with anticipation, and he thinks he knows now, exactly what Aizen-taichou felt on this day so long ago.

Hand-in-hand, he leads young Kira Izuru out of the hall, his only choice for the entire year.

And all the while, he thinks that it will definitely be interesting to destroy that adorable little smile.

**END**


	97. With Great Power

**97.**

**Title: **With Great Power  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Isshin, Urahara**  
Word Count:** 491  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the uh, Grand Fisher storyline and the current Post-Soul Society Arc.  
**Summary: **Flashback fic- Isshin learns the hard way that his family can't escape his blood.   
**Dedication: **Beck- thanks for driving to McDonald's last night!  
**A/N:** So yeah, I'm feeling a bit melancholy and antisocial today. Thus, I wrote something that either really makes sense or really doesn't. It makes sense to _me_ which probably means it won't make sense to anyone else, but dude, referencing Spider-Man totally knocks out any cool it possibly could have in my book either way. I don't know what I'm doing writing when my brain feels fuzzy. --;;

* * *

"Did you hear the news?"

Isshin snorted. "There's news?"

Urahara smiled at the former shinigami. "I suppose you wouldn't eh?"

"Che, cryptic bastard," Kurosaki muttered to his friend tiredly, eyeing the door to the clinic and sort of hoping someone would show up just so he wouldn't be stuck alone with Kisuke and his riddles anymore.

"Karakura area's shinigami patrolman was killed by a Hollow last night. Or at least, that's what they're saying…"

Isshin cracked his neck wearily. "And what's that got to do with me?" he asked, sounding annoyed. "I'm not a shinigami anymore. Just a doctor."

Urahara shrugged. "Just thought you might like to know," the blonde admitted, eyeing Isshin critically.

Isshin snorted and looked away from that disturbingly probing look. "It's not my responsibility, Kisuke. If you're so worried about the bastard, go get him yourself."

Kisuke laughed. "Ah, I'm just a simple businessman now, aren't I Kurosaki-sensei?"

"Che. If you're gonna make an excuse, at least don't use the same line I did!" Isshin scoffed at the other captain.

"I don't know, I thought it was a rather different excuse, don't you? Well, that was all I came to see you about," Urahara admitted after a moment, standing up and adjusting his hat. "Some gossip from the old world, I guess."

"It's not my concern anymore. I've got a new life," Isshin reiterated, standing to see the blonde to the door.

"And a new family," Urahara agreed. "But I thought I'd warn you just the same, I-chin. Aa…guess it's just me getting paranoid in my old age, eh?"

Isshin frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Probably nothing," Urahara surmised, as he pushed open the door to the clinic in preparation to leave. "Just… even if you aren't a shinigami yourself anymore… you can't change your blood, eh?"

"My blood?"

"Maa, not in the literal sense, of course. But I'm probably worrying needlessly," Urahara repeated, looking up at the sky and taking a deep breath. "Hmmm… smells like it might rain later… how troublesome."

"Che. You aren't getting paranoid in your old age, you're getting decrepit," Isshin teased, crossing his arms and regarding the blonde speculatively.

"Maybe it's that." Urahara threw one last look over his shoulder. "I'm sure the only thing you've got to worry about is the weather tonight, yes?"

"Not even that, ya old man. It's just rain, isn't it?"

"Well, I'd better get back then. It was good seeing you again," Urahara acknowledged, tipping the brim of his hat before turning to leave the clinic.

"Oi…Kisuke… that Hollow…"

Kisuke paused but didn't turn around. "Hmmm?"

"A big one?"

"Supposedly."

"I guess it would be, eh? What're those old fogey's calling it?"

Urahara's eye glinted. "Grand Fisher."

Isshin laughed to himself. "Che. Name like that, doesn't sound like too bad a bastard, if ya ask me. Probably child's play," the doctor snorted.

Urahara chuckled thoughtfully. "Maybe."

"G'night, ya senile old man."

"Good night, Isshin."

**END**


	98. Teenage Rebellion

**98.**

**Title: **Teenage Rebellion  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Hitsugaya, Matsumoto  
**Word Count:** 661  
**Warning/s: **OOC stupidity, but no spoilers.  
**Summary: **Hitsugaya's growing up.  
**Dedication: **JaB…. TALK ABOUT BOOBS. :P  
**A/N:** I dunno. I just, I have no idea. I blame it on Pre-final hysteria. You know, the quietly seething, waiting to break out at any moment hysteria. Because that's what I have right now. OMG Final tomorrow at 9am SO SCREWED. But yeah, here's fic. Sort of. I'll stop rambling now.

* * *

Matsumoto was beginning to believe that her captain had…

…well, he'd reached an age.

Though to be fair, his work was flawless as always, and as the days passed he only became stronger and stronger.

But there were just…some _thing_sshe supposed all teenage boys were susceptible to, no matter how seemingly responsible.

"Taichou! Don't just leave your dirty socks lying around, that's disgusting!"

"Don't touch them then," he replied easily, not looking up from whatever book he was reading currently.

She frowned at him. "I don't _plan_ on touching them, but they shouldn't just be sitting in the hallway, what if we have visitors?"

"Then tell them not to touch them either."

She wanted to rip out her hair. Sure, he'd been a little smartass before, but she'd always figured it was natural for him and in no way intentional. Nowadays it was like he was _trying _to be aggravating.

"Taichou!"

"Hmmm?" He still wasn't looking up.

She knew she wasn't his _mom_. She didn't want to be _anyone's _mom. _Ever_. But right now she really wanted to just grab him and throw him over her knee and give him a good _spanking._ And not in the fun way, either.

She just didn't know how to deal with kids.

Except…she paused, looking thoughtfully at the white-haired boy rebelliously reading his human-world comic book in the middle of a workday. Except… he wasn't a kid anymore.

He was a _teenager_ now.

And teenagers were always in possession of two things.

Angst and hormones.

Hormones she could deal with.

Smiling to herself, she planted herself on his desk crossing her legs and getting close enough to peer at the text of his comic from beside him. "Mmmm…whatcha reading?"

He blinked and chanced a look at her from the corner of his vision.

Which meant he got an eyeful of cleavage that _adult men_ had trouble dealing with. She sat up a little straighter at just the right moment and smirked to herself when she felt the side of his cheek come in contact with her exposed skin.

"Ah…I'm uh…"

"Hmmm?"

"Reading…" he ground out, inching sideways a little bit.

"Manga, eh? Looks interesting!" the older vice-captain pressed, tossing some hair over her shoulder and smiling indolently at him.

"I'll lend it to you later," the young captain muttered, cheeks pinking slightly as he shifted in his chair to create more distance between his face and her… friends.

She leaned forward some more, putting a hand on his shoulder so she could murmur into his ear. "Ne…taichou?"

His eye twitched. "Ah…what?"

"Since we've got some free time today…why don't you and I…"

"What?"

"Well, I was thinking, we've never, you know…"

"Huh?"

"Together… we haven't…" she trailed off purposefully, voice low in his ear.

His eyes went as wide as saucers, face turning red as he clutched the manga to him like it would protect him from her predatory advances. "What? We've never _what_?"

"_You know_," she pressed, running a hand along the side of her neck and then down her collarbone a little bit, just enough to make him swallow.

"Eh?"

"You and I… we haven't had the chance yet… to… well… tidy up the office together."

He blinked at her.

She laughed and plucked the manga out of his disbelieving fingers, and closing it, slid it down the front of her robe. "So, let's get started, shall we?" she suggested, hopping off the desk gracefully.

He glared. "That was dirty."

"Dirty? How so? I just wanted to clean up together since we had time. Ne… what were _you_ thinking about, taichou?"

He glowered and looked away, getting to his feet. "Let's clean already then."

She smiled sweetly and reached out to ruffle his hair. "Wonderful suggestion, sir. How about we start with those socks?"

He flushed and grudgingly complied.

Matsumoto decided that maybe teenagers weren't so bad after all.

And like this, they could even be considered a little bit cute.

**END**


	99. Sleeping Beauty

**99.**

**Title: **Sleeping Beauty  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou (ish)**  
Word Count:** 462  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers save for what the 4th division's other job is, I guess. --;;  
**Summary: **Ganjyu would have killed Hanatarou a long time ago, except…  
**Dedication: **Kelly- hope your final went well today! MINE KILLED ME BTW.  
**A/N:** My goodness, some progress in their relationship? Maybe. Sort of. I don't know, I think they're unbearably cute together but when I tell myself I should maybe at least make them kiss, I have NO IDEA HOW TO DO IT. It's probably very hypocritical of me, but I'll work it out in my head one day. THEY WILL DO MORE THAN BE CLUELESS. Yes. One day.  
**A/N 2: **For the reviewers, just wanted to leave a quick thank you note for your continued support and let you know that I do read all of the reviews, it's just that I've written so far ahead from what I've posted that when you respond to a story the next one (and probably ten after that) are already written so I've got all the notes already down and etc. And cough I'm too lazy to change them most of the time on top of that, so sorry if I seem unresponsive. --;; Anyway, I really do appreciate all your support and kind words, so please stick with me, okay?

* * *

Hanatarou woke up when he heard Ganjyu cuss from somewhere above him, the taller man tripping slightly over the corner of a rug. 

"Mmm…Ganjyu- san?" the little shinigami murmured, blinking owlishly up at the other man.

"Che, finally woke up, eh, brat?"

Hanatarou yawned. "What…" he paused, realizing that Ganjyu was carrying him. "Ganjyu-san?"

The larger man looked away from those big, questioning eyes. "Ya fell asleep on the couch in the middle of talkin' to nee-san," he explained.

Hanatarou's expression turned to one of horror.

"Don't worry, you lucked out, runt. If you weren't so cute, she probably woulda killed you for the insult."

"C-cute?"

"_She_ said!" Ganjyu hastily clarified, turning slightly pink.

"Oh. Hehe."

"Yeah well, if it was anyone else you'd be dead meat, so be thankful."

Hanatarou smiled up at his friend. "Okay."

"Che."

"Mmm… I can walk now, Ganjyu."

"Forget it, ain't worth the effort of puttin' you down when we're pretty much already here."

"Okay. Is it all right to go back to sleep then?"

The other man sighed and shifted Hanatarou's weight in his arms so he could settle a little more comfortably. "Che, why're you so tired today anyway, huh?"

"Had to clean the tunnels this morning," Hanatarou responded simply, resting his head against Ganjyu's chest.

"Oh. Well, I guess it's fine then. Just don't drool all over me again this time, 'kay?"

"Mmkay."

And he was out.

Ganjyu sighed to himself as he continued on the way downstairs to his room, ignoring the idiotic grins and thumbs-ups that Koganehiko and Shiruganehiko flashed him as he passed them in the hallway.

Muttering to himself, he shifted Hanatarou easily into one arm and slid the door to his room open, somehow managing to wrestle through the dark and mess with one only hand and getting Hanatarou into his futon without dropping him.

The brat didn't even bat an eye while Ganjyu tucked him in, just smiling in his sleep and curling up around his host's spare pillow, burying his face into it like it was a teddy bear or something.

"Ungrateful runt," Ganjyu's muttered to himself as he moved to make up a place to sleep on the floor.

Looking down in the dark for his extra blankets, Ganjyu, to his horror, spied a shiny puddle of what could only be drool on the front of his shirt. Again.

The larger man sighed and wiped at it ineffectually with his sash before giving up and settling down on the floor.

Chancing one last look at a softly snoring Hanatarou, he realized a bit sourly that there would probably be drool on both his pillows come morning.

Ganjyu scowled to himself as he lay down, thinking to himself that yeah, his sister was right, as usual.

If the little idiot weren't so damn cute he'd be _dead._

**END**


	100. Momma's Boy

**100.**

**Title: **Momma's Boy  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ichigo, and I guess, it _could_ be IchigoxRukia or heck, even IchigoxOrihime if you wanted. Or there could be no pairing, depending on how you look at it. I don't know. The pairing's not important. **  
Word Count:** 673  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Grand Fisher storyline, and um, sort-of but not really spoilers for the Post-Soul Society arc. But not really.  
**Summary: ** Ichigo sits down for a chat.  
**Dedication: **To everyone who's made it this far with me and not gotten too bored along the way. You have a tougher constitution than I.  
**A/N:** Anticlimactic for the 100th drabble? I think so. But it was something I kind of wanted to write for a while and so I just did it. I'm sure the number isn't anything important, right? Yes. And I don't personally _like_ this drabble myself for some reason, but it was just one of those that I had to get off my chest, ya know? So I did, regardless of how it may or may not have turned out. I hope you'll forgive me for that. Like Ichigo, I'm not very good with words, I don't think. --;;

* * *

He's never done this before, and so it's a little awkward, but he thinks that maybe it'll be okay as long as no one catches him and more importantly, if no one answers back.

Usually when he's here, he just sits and looks at her grave and thinks to himself that it's his fault she's there. He doesn't try to say anything to her because he doesn't really trust himself with words a lot of the time and the rest of the time he's not quite sure what one is supposed to say to the person he got killed, even if she is his mother.

For now he puts a flower on her resting place and stares at it a little bit, trying to figure out how you're supposed to start something like this after so many years of silence.

He wonders if he's just crazy.

But maybe it isn't crazy really, because he of all people should know that death isn't a boundary, at least not for someone like him, and he's seen and talked to ghosts that were complete strangers before, so it shouldn't be harder to talk to someone he loved very much, right?

"Um…hey…" he starts, and his voice dies in his throat a little bit, which makes him frown, makes him think again that he's a big idiot for doing this.

He doesn't know why, but with everything lately, he finds that he just wants to talk to his mom for a little bit.

He sure as hell isn't talking to his old man about it.

Not if he can help it, anyway.

So he scratches the back of his head and takes one last look around and tries again.

"Hi…mom."

The second time it's a little easier and his voice doesn't break away too much, though arguably, that might be because he's whispering now.

"How are you?"

He pauses like he's waiting for an answer and then feels like he wants to kick himself.

"This is probably stupid," he continues anyway, looking down on the lily he brought her before bending down to adjust it slightly, a little to the right, no, a little to the left, down some. "This _is_ stupid," he corrects after a moment, standing up straight and sticking his hands in his pockets.

He forces himself to go on, though he's not quite sure why. "So… um… Karin and Yuzu are good, in case you were wondering. But uh, I guess you probably already knew that 'cuz they do this a lot more than I do, but yeah. They're good. The old man…there's still something wrong with him, so he hasn't really changed. He's surprisingly good at keepin' secrets, for such a loudmouthed old fart, ya know?"

It gets easier as he goes on, and before long he's sitting down in front of her grave talking about all sorts of idiotic things, and it's probably lucky that no one's here today to stop and stare at the teenager who's sitting at a grave talking to it like it's talking back to him, because if there were, he'd be institutionalized in a heartbeat and part of him would agree that it would be the right thing to do given the circumstances.

He keeps talking because he feels like he needs to. He tells her about what he's been doing and how school is going, and about the interesting people he's met through the years. He tells her everything he can until he realizes at about the point when he's talking about how many unmatched socks he has, that he's just stalling, really.

So he stops mid-sentence because she can't possibly care about his socks, because _he_ doesn't and he's the one who has to wear them.

Time to get to the crux of the matter.

He takes a deep breath and rests his hands on his knees, looking away from the silent gravestone in embarrassment.

It's ridiculous that his cheeks are pink as he does this.

"So," he starts awkwardly, "I met this girl…"

**END**


	101. Bedtime Stories for Little Girls

**  
101.**

**Title: **Bedtime Stories for Little Girls  
**Rating: **PG-13 (for violence?)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru**  
Word Count:** 555  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just weirdness and OMG THE LAME.  
**Summary: ** Yachiru wants a story.   
**Dedication: **tomomichi- I'm thrilled you seem to like my Kenpachi stuff (or at least, some of it...hope you like this one too).  
**A/N:** Who said I was stopping at 100:P

* * *

"Ken-chan, read me a story!"

Zaraki blinked as Yachiru bound up to him, landing in his lap with a squishy sort of thud. He studied her carefully. "Uh… that's just blood, right?"

"Yup!"

"Just makin' sure," he grunted, taking the end of his sleeve and using it to wipe her face off so he could actually _see_ it. "You didn't swallow any of that, didja?"

"Nope!"

"You're a mess."

"Ken-chan too!" the little vice-captain accused, pointing to a couple of red splatters that had long ago dried on the side of his cheek.

"Che, well, I got more of 'em than you," he shot back, eyeing her challengingly.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "'s 'cuz Ken-chan just cuts away with no finesse. Baldy-shiny-smooth-head said so."

Kenpachi's eye narrowed. "Yeah well, he's got a retarded dance."

"It's funny!" Yachiru giggled, though she didn't say that it _wasn't_ retarded. "Ne, Ken-chan…read me a story now, okay?"

He sighed. "Stupid. I didn't bring a book here with me."

She pointed to some of the dead bandits littering the area immediately around them. "Ne…ask them."

"Uh, think they're dead, kiddo."

She pouted. "Nuh uh! That one's not!" she indicated one of the twitching, less maimed bodies behind him. "Ask, ask!"

Kenpachi sighed, but decided to humor her considering she was getting fussy. "Fine. Geez." The eleventh division captain, currently in plainclothes, stood up and toed the twitching man with one foot. "Oi…"

"Kill…me…"

"Got any books?"

"Please…"

Zaraki toed him back onto his face. "Don't think they got any, Yachiru."

She pouted fiercely. "That's no fun!"

"Oi, quit with the eyes, wouldja? How 'bout I just make one up for you?"

"Really? Waaaah, Ken-chan's the best!"

Sitting back down, Kenpachi grunted and stretched out his legs, using one of the defeated bodies as a footrest. Yachiru climbed happily back into his lap.

"Uh… let's see. Once there was a guy."

"What was his name?"

"Um… Bob. I dunno. Bob."

"'Kay!"

"And one day, Bob ran into a guy that looked a little smaller'n him."

"What did he do?"

"Well, he decided that since the guy was smaller'n him, he could uh… beat him up and take his money."

"Bob's not very nice!"

"Just listen, wouldya?"

"Kay!"

"Um…anyway, Bob threatened the guy and asked him to give him all his money. And his women, if he had any."

Yachiru's nose wrinkled. "Why would he want the women?"

"Cuz he was a pervert, okay? Pay attention."

"Hai!"

"Anyway, the guy was smaller'n Bob by a little bit, but he was also really pissed off that day."

"Why?"

"Cuz Bob tried to take his money, why else would he be pissed?"

"He wanted his women too, remember?"

"Well that's not as important as his money, now shut up or I ain't tellin' you the rest."

"Aye-aye sir!"

"Anyway, the guy was pissed. So he killed Bob."

Yachiru looked up at Kenpachi with big eyes. "And then?"

"That's it. The end."

The pink haired death god looked thoughtful, chin resting in both hands. "Did he kill him with finesse?"

"Sure. Tons of it."

She lit up. "Yay! That was a good story, Ken-chan!"

Kenpachi looked pleased with himself. "Yeah, that wasn't half bad, was it?"

In the background, twitching guy groaned. "Please…kill…me."

Growling, Kenpachi did.

And took his money.

Just because.

**END**


	102. A Keeper

**102.**

**Title: **A Keeper  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichika**  
Word Count:** 766  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers. It's in fact, spun off into something like an AU.   
**Summary: ** Companion Drabble to #79 (Coming Home)- Shuuhei versus Crazy-Stalker-Ex? Or maybe not.  
**Dedication: ** The five other ShuuxYumi fans in the universe. I would be so lonely without you. ;;  
**A/N:** Yes, this was honestly the best I could come up with to continue #79. Yes, I am a world of lame and this is just filler, really. But I'll probably continue continuing it and so bear with me through this rather boring one until I get to the um…fishing. Maybe. If I don't get to it, then feel free to bean me over the head for this one being retarded.

* * *

"Why is your life such a melodrama?"

"It's not a melodrama. It's misconstrued by boring guys as one, is all," Yumi replied easily, hanging up his clothes in the closet to prevent wrinkles.

Shuuhei kicked his duffel aside and let his unpacking finish there. "_Not_ a melodrama? Who's dad was pointing a sword at me thinking it was _your_ stalker ex-boyfriend back for another round?"

"It was an honest mistake," Yumi defended, resting his hands on his hips and looking at Shuuhei critically. "We did get here early."

"Not my fault!"

"Who couldn't sleep because he was nervous?"

"I was not nervous. I just couldn't sleep, all right?"

"Who got up two hours earlier than planned and paced the hallway so _I_ couldn't sleep either?"

Shuuhei's defense crumbled. "Yeah…well, you didn't have to suggest we leave early, I coulda paced for a coupla more hours."

"You're cute," Yumi laughed patting the vice-captain on the cheek. "Even mom said so."

Shuuhei flushed slightly at the memory of being enthusiastically hugged by…well, he supposed she'd be his mother-in-law? What the hell.

He had a new orange sweater.

Which helped make sense of things now, because he really never understood why Yumi insisted on wearing that neon orange turtleneck thing on top of his _black_ shinigami outfit, but what did he know? Definitely not the fashion expert between the two of them.

And hey, if the mom made it, then it was kind of an obligatory wear, right?

"Well, at least _she _seems to like me," Shuuhei conceded, lying down on the bed in Yumi's old room with a heavy sigh.

The other shinigami read through his omission. "Dad doesn't _hate_ you."

"The sword is a sign of love? I'm flattered."

Yumi smacked him in the shoulder for being complicated. "We explained, didn't we?"

Shuuhei rolled on his stomach to look up at the other shinigami. "Oh and the stalker story makes me feel _so _much better."

"Well, it explains why dad's not warming up, doesn't it?"

"I'm not going to turn into stalker number two!"

"_I_ told him that."

Shuuhei sighed. "Whatever. What I'm more worried about is what's-his-name actually showing up for real."

Yumi laughed. "Oh, is the vice-captain of the ninth division very worried about an academy drop-out? You honestly have nothing to fear from him. He's very docile."

"Your dad had a _sword._"

"My _dad_ has the excuse of being tired of years of harassment."

Shuuhei blinked. "Years?"

"Aa."

Hisagi snickered a little at the thought. "So some poor slob's been pining after you for years, huh? And you won't even give him the time of day?"

"Nope."

Shuuhei felt a little bit smug and reached out, snagging the sash of Yumi's robe. "So…I gotta beat this guy up or something? Territorial dispute and all that?" he asked, tugging a bemused Ayasekawa towards the bed.

"How uncouth."

"I'm an animal at heart," Shuuhei admitted, forgetting about tugging and pulling Yumi right down beside him. Turning on his side, the vice-captain grinned. "Gimme the word. I'll totally kick his ass."

"I refuse to be likened to territory," Yumi sniffed, though not seriously.

"Yeah? But I made all those territorial _markings_ the other night. Hey… want me to find 'em again?" he asked, slipping his hands under the flimsy material of Yumi's garment and tickling his sides.

"Shuuhei!"

"Op…there's one… two… hmmm, I remember putting that _there_…heh, that was good..."

"Boys! I brought some extra blankets and pillows… does Shuuhei need a toothbru…"

Yumichika's mother paused midway through the door and blinked, staring at the mess of shinigami flushed and breathless on the bed. "Oh. Well. Excuse me. I keep forgetting about the whole knocking thing."

Shuuhei sat straight up, almost knocking Yumi off the bed in the process. "Um! I um…we…"

"I guess you won't be needing the extra blankets then."

Shuuhei flushed deep crimson.

A moment of silence

And then she started laughing. A lot. Turning to her son she put a hand on her cheek. "Oh Yumi, he's _so cute_… definitely keep this one, okay?"

"I was planning to, mom."

"Well then. I'll leave you two alone… you've probably had a long day. All that travel and whatnot." She turned around and headed back down the hallway, closing the door behind her. Which unfortunately, wasn't enough to drown out her shout of, "Dear, you'll never believe what I just saw!"

Shuuhei blinked stupidly after her. Then groaned and buried his head into Yumi's pillows.

"What?" his lover asked, poking him in the ribs.

"I forgot that she's _your_ mom."

Pause.

"Ow! I'm just saying!"

**END**


	103. Drunken Something

**103.**

**Title: **Drunken Something  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou**  
Word Count:** 713  
**Warning/s: **Kind-of spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary: **Companion drabble to #91 (Sick)- Hanatarou can't really hold his liquor.  
**Dedication: **Emlan- this one was totally her fault. SEE? Sometimes comments inspire me like WOAH.  
**A/N:** As I start out writing this I don't know if I'll do as I promised and get some real GanjyuxHanatarou action down or not, but either way, SOMETHING'S going to happen in this fic that will probably be really stupid and silly and mushy. Hope it's at least the enjoyable kind.

* * *

Hanatarou can't hold his liquor. Ganjyu can tell because the twerp is only half a glass in and his face is already tinged pink as he clutches the cup between both hands, looking around the room with wide eyes like a little kid or something.

It's Renji's promotion party and there are shinigami everywhere, and Ganjyu really wouldn't be allowed here as a mere academy brat, except that Hanatarou invited him and no one can really say no to the little guy, not with those eyes and not after everything he did for Abarai-taichou during the ryoka fiasco.

And Ganjyu thinks that even with the okay, he doesn't really want to be here tonight anyway. The only reason he's here at all is because he'd had a bad feeling when Hanatarou told him about the shindig. The sudden image of a tipsy Yamada being molested by some drunk, pervert shinigami who mistook Hana for a girl had crossed Ganjyu's mind when Hanatarou had been talking about it, and after that he'd forced himself to come just so he could look after the runt.

Which is why he hasn't had anything to drink himself, even though the booze is flowing like a waterfall and Renji and all his thug friends won't let anyone walk around without a bottle in a brown paper sack of their very own, like the proper gangster winos they are.

Ganjyu counts Hanatarou's glasses throughout the evening and only has to head off two sloshed shinigami who look as if they want to corner the little guy in some dark alleyway and do unspeakable things to him.

The whole while Hanatarou sits obliviously beside Ganjyu with that pretty pink blush across the bridge of his nose, holding his cup like he's a little kid and babbling on and on about his day.

Ganjyu listens as best he can over the din, but really, his focus isn't on what Hana's saying because he's not the kid's date tonight. He's his watchdog.

Er, not that he'd ever be the kid's date or anything.

Later into the evening, a girl asks Hanatarou to dance and Ganjyu tells him to go on though he doesn't like it. Hanatarou declines, laughing awkwardly and stating that he doesn't know how to dance. The girl goes away empty-handed and Ganjyu is relieved.

But only because it would have been harder keeping an eye on the kid out on the dance floor.

Only reason, really.

Except maybe it's not if he's really honest with himself, and he thinks his sister would have a field day with this if she were here. He's glad she's not.

After a while he clears his throat and turns to Hana, who's still clutching that cup in-between his small hands. Ganjyu turns a little pink himself and offers to teach the runt how to dance, 'cuz he's obviously not going to score any girls in the future if he keeps declining because he doesn't know how.

So Ganjyu offers the little guy his hand, except Hanatarou's looking at him with a vaguely sick expression on his face all of a sudden. Panicking, Ganjyu quickly draws back his hand and assures the twerp that it's not anything like _that_ he's just trying to help a friend out, really…

Though he doesn't really believe all of that himself.

Hanatarou looks sicker as he keeps talking, and Ganjyu's hands are sweaty and his heartbeat begins to speed up because this is going badly and maybe he should have just kept his big mouth shut about everything because really, what was he _thinking_ asking something like that, especially _here_ with so many other people around and that was just _idiotic_ and he feels so_ stupid_ and he hopes that maybe he can play it off as a joke maybe...

Then Hanatarou throws up on him.

All over his shoes. With everyone staring at them.

The weird part about it is, Ganjyu's so relieved he doesn't even mind the smell.

And as Hana continues to upchuck all over the floor, all Ganjyu does is pat his back gently and think to himself that there's something horribly telling about how you feel for someone after you've had them throw up all over you and didn't kill them for it.

**END**


	104. Facts of Nature

**  
104.**

**Title: **Facts of Nature  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Ikkaku**  
Word Count:** 255  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers  
**Summary: **Crack fic- Ikkaku tries to wow his captain with his scientific knowledge. Kenpachi is a world of not-caring.  
**Dedication:** Vinnie- he asked for gay bugs. O.o   
**A/N:** I have no idea. Ask Vinnie and Samurai Champloo. Poor Jin. XD

* * *

Lazy summer evenings meant attempting to beat the heat by sitting out on the eleventh division headquarters porch with a fan and a cold drink.

It was also Zaraki Kenpachi's quiet time, a chance for the eleventh division captain to lounge about in the dying sunlight with the fireflies buzzing overhead, smoking his pipe in wordless contemplation.

Ikkaku poured them both liberal amounts of alcohol and took the opportunity to wind down from a hectic day beside his captain, stretching out on the wood boards and yawning lazily into his hand.

"I wonder why they do that sometimes."

"Hmmm?" Madarame looked up at Zaraki's unexpected question. "Do what, sir?"

"The fireflies," Kenpachi indicated with a grunt. "Sometimes they just light up and crash right into each other. 's kinda funny."

"Well sir," the bald shinigami started, "I once heard somewhere that the males usually light up to attract females…"

Kenpachi blinked at him. "Yeah?"

Ikkaku smirked, taking a moment to enjoy having temporary superiority over his captain when it came down to brains instead of brawn. "Yessir. It's what most of 'em are tryin' to do. But ah, sometimes some of 'em are actually lightin' up to look for other males. Which is probably why you're seein' two lit-up ones crashin' into one another like that," he explained, grinning at his captain as he finished, obviously waiting for some form of acknowledgement from the other death god for being so damn smart.

Kenpachi stared at him for a while.

"Get the hell away from me."

**END**


	105. 1000 Demons

**105.**

**Title: **1000 Demons  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Slight, questionably there at all KomamuraxTousen **  
Word Count:** 518  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary: **Do you become the thing you're supposed to destroy?   
**Dedication:** Colleen- cuz I haven't dedicated anything to you yet and you were an awesome Kaname.  
**A/N:** So I wrote this purely on the realization that in all previous 104 drabbles, I hadn't written Tousen into _any_ of them. That also applies to Yuzu and Karin actually, which is kind of sad considering I wrote one with _Chizuru_ in it. --;;. But I'm sure I'll rectify the situation eventually, especially if my current goal is trying to make it as close to 200 as possible before I completely run out of ideas. ;; And yes, I referenced Saiyuki for this one. Leave me alone.

* * *

"There's an old legend I heard about recently. It's kind of silly, but I think when I heard it, it sounded like something important right then and there," Tousen Kaname admits quietly, sitting next to Komamura Sajin one chill evening as they're sitting together at the top of a hill looking down at a grave.

Komamura grunts noncommittally in response, but Kaname knows him well enough, has known him long enough, to understand that it simply means the larger shinigami is listening.

So he goes on.

"It says that if you kill a thousand demons, you become one yourself."

Komamura snorts and turns in Kaname's direction. "You're right, it is kind of silly."

There's a small smile on the blind man's face when he hears Komamura's response.

"What if it's true?" he presses, and Komamura can't really help but smile back because one of his great joys in his life is to be able to sit with Tousen like this and talk about all manner of strange and trivial things.

"Then I think we're demons," he replies without really thinking.

And then Tousen sighs softly and puts his hand on Komamura's shoulder, and his touch is the only one Sajin does not flinch away from because Tousen's hands only seek with the intent to understand rather than judge. "Do you think there's a better way?" the ninth division captain asks after a moment, fingers bunching slightly against the fox man's sleeve.

"I think that our work is important and that it must be carried to the same ends, regardless of how."

"Even at the risk of your own life? Of the people around you?"

"Always."

Tousen smiles gently and releases Komamura's captain's coat, letting his hand float back down to his side. "I see. That's what I thought you'd say."

After a moment he stands and raises his head towards the starry sky. Komamura remains sitting and simply watches him. He hears him say, "Demons killing demons, huh?" to himself in such a sad way that the fox almost wants to assure his friend that they aren't demons at all and it was foolish of him to say so as lightly as he did. Except he doesn't say anything because he's not sure whether that would be a lie or not.

"Ne…Sajin…"

"Hmm?"

"If I could find a better way… what should I do?"

The answer seems obvious. "Use it, of course."

Kaname turns then, and Komamura can see the ghost of a smile that is really a world of sadness on his friend's face. "All right then."

They don't ever talk about it again after that day, and after Tousen's gone, Komamura wonders if Kaname left because he fell for the seduction of one man's pretty lies or if he really found his better way after all.

All he knows for certain is that he misses his friend.

And it might make him an even larger demon in Kaname's eyes, but Komamura knows that he would do anything necessary, no matter how despicable, to bring him back.

Then, then they can search for a better way together.

**END**


	106. Hellooooo Nurse!

**106.**

**Title: **Hellooooo Nurse!  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Karin, Yuzu**  
Word Count:** 350  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but kind of bad-touchy. --;;  
**Summary: **Karin can't quit the clinic.  
**Dedication:** Kelly, who sort of reminds me of Karin sometimes. SMALL but fierce. XD  
**A/N:** I don't know, this is kind of strange and pointless, but it's about Ichigo's sisters, and I haven't written abut them yet, and so this is kind of an accomplishment at least in that way. I can't really say much about the content as far as accomplishments go, really. --;;

* * *

Karin thinks that Yuzu shouldn't be allowed to be a nurse, not when she's the way she is and there is an endless supply of sick perverts out there who just love to see a cute little girl all dressed up in a nurse's uniform and ready to attend to their every need.

She would complain to her father about it, but he's probably on the side of the old perverts since he is one. The stupid idiot would more likely than not say that there's nothing wrong with being taken care of by a cute girl in a cute uniform and it only serves to help hasten recovery anyway.

Then he'd probably snicker and talk about how having such pretty nurses was good for repeat business and do that thing with his eyebrows that made her punch him a couple of times and either way, nothing would really be resolved.

She doesn't understand how such an idiot got through medical school.

But regardless of that, she's stranded because as much as she hates having to drag herself back from school on certain days to help out in the clinic, she'll never quit as long as Yuzu's working because if she does, that would leave her gentle, cutely naïve little sister in the hands of all manner of perversion with no line of defense. The mere thought of the possibilities is what makes Karin clench her teeth and bear with the perverts that are sleazy with _her_ because _she_ can handle it while she watches out for Yuzu, since no one else will if she's not here.

Passing an open examination room as she's delivering a fresh package of bandages to her father down the hall, she hears Yuzu ask, "Eh? But I don't think I'm qualified to examine that for you, Yamazaki-san. Though I suppose I could take a look if it's really bothering you, since tousan's busy right now…"

Karin drops the bandages, makes a fist, and charges into the room.

She can only imagine how bad things will become once she and Yuzu have their growth spurts.

**END**


	107. TMI

**107.**

**Title: **TMI  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, background ShuuheixYumichika**  
Word Count:** 157  
**Warning/s: **Like the title says… TMI. But no spoilers.  
**Summary: **Yumichika comes into work late.  
**Dedication:** I dunno about this one… how about to commemorate having like, six ShuuxYumi fans in the world now? --;;  
**A/N:** I don't know. I can't explain this one myself. --;;

* * *

It's around the end of lunchtime when Ayasekawa strolls into the eleventh division headquarters, smiling like he hadn't just missed the entire morning's work and made Ikkaku cover for him the whole time.

"Che…where the hell ya been, bastard?" Madarame asks, finishing off a cup of tea and pouring himself another just so he can look holier-than-thou as he sips at it and glares at his friend from over the rim of the cup.

Yumichika greets him with a casual wave and the effect of the tea is unsurprisingly, completely lost on him. "Yo. Sorry for being late."

"Che. Better have a damn good excuse! I don't wanna hear anythin' 'bout you not feelin' like comin' in on time. I'll be really pissed if I had to _take fukutaichou on a mission by myself_ just 'cuz you were sittin' around with your thumb up your ass."

Yumi grins. "Shuuhei's, actually. It's his birthday."

Ikkaku spits tea everywhere.

**END**


	108. Saturated

**108.**

**Title: **Saturated   
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou**  
Word Count:** 596  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, really.  
**Summary: **Hanatarou and Ganjyu get caught in the rain.  
**Dedication:** Yoshi- thanks for driving us to dinner! My day would have been so Cabin-feverish if I hadn't gotten out. You and Jen saved me this weekend.  
**A/N:** Does it even rain in seireitei? Who knows… it doesn't matter, right? Right. That's not what we're here for anyway.

* * *

They'd gotten caught in the rain on the way back from the marketplace, and it's one of those rare occasions when Ganjyu wishes his crazy sister would conform to the rest of the universe and build a normal house closer to civilization.

He personally doesn't mind the rain so much, even as heavily as it's coming down, but Hanatarou looks so damn pathetic that Ganjyu wishes he could blame someone for the bad weather and kick their ass for picking on someone as shabby looking as poor Yamada.

As it is, all he says is, "I told you ya didn't have to come with me," and tucks the bag of veggies his sister sent him to get more securely under his arm.

Hanatarou tries ineffectually to wipe rain water out of his eyes with the edge of his sodden sleeve and laughs weakly. "Sorry for bogging you down, Ganjyu-san."

"Che, that's not what I meant," Ganjyu mutters, slowing his pace a little bit and wondering how miserable it's gotta be to be walking around with soaked socks and squishy straw sandals like the little guy is.

They plod side by side for a while longer because Hanatarou absolutely can't run in his current state, and Ganjyu thinks if he leaves the runt behind he'll get swallowed up by the mud or something. Kuukaku can wait a little longer for her supper.

When Hanatarou sneezes after another minute or so, Ganjyu curses to himself and stops walking to remove his vest. He wrestles it off and tosses the damp cloth over Yamada's head without any ceremony.

"Eh?"

"It ain't much, but little guy like you, should at least keep your head dry some," Ganjyu explains, looking away. "Best I can do 'til we get back to the house," he adds.

Hanatarou peeps up at him from under the green cloth, and though it fits Ganjyu fine, it looks absolutely huge on him. Ganjyu thinks it's almost like Hana's swimming in his clothes.

"Thank y…Achoo!"

The larger man frowns and hopes that that second sneeze isn't the first symptom of a cold or something. He eyes Hanatarou speculatively as the runt shivers and pulls the vest around him some more, obviously trying to soak up what little of Ganjyu's body heat is still in the garment.

It's absolutely the most pathetic thing he's ever seen in his life.

He sighs loudly. "Can't be helped, then eh?"

Hanatarou blinks back at him.

"Oi, catch…" Ganjyu tosses the bag of vegetables at Hanatarou, who with a startled yelp, manages to get his hands around it before it hits the ground.

"G-ganjyu-san?"

"Think you can handle at least those?"

"Of course…but…"

"Great." Without another word, Ganjyu scoops him up into his arms and makes a mad dash for home.

When they get back Kuukaku looks like she's on the verge of shouting at them for taking so long, but one look at shivering little Hanatarou all curled up against Ganjyu's chest and clutching the vegetable bag like his life depends on it and her rage turns into instant bemusement.

"Go get a bath you two, dinner'll be on by the time you're out."

She reaches out to take the vegetables from Hanatarou, and pauses to study the little guy. Yamada looks back with wide eyes.

She laughs and ruffles his wet hair before turning around and sauntering off.

Ganjyu wonders what the hell is so funny to his crazy sister _tonight_ and forgets that he's still holding Hanatarou as he heads for the washroom.

He carries him all the way there.

**END**


	109. Why Ishida Ryuuken Hates Shinigami

**109.**

**Title:** Why Ishida Ryuuken Hates Shinigami  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Isshin, Ryuuken**  
Word Count:** 599  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the current, post-Soul Society arc.  
**Summary: **Kurosaki and Ishida- version 1.0.  
**Dedication:** laliho- just caught up on the wank… hope you're doing better now.  
**A/N:** Really, there's no justification for this. So I'm not even going to try.

* * *

The first day of medical school had gone fine for a young Ryuuken. In fact, the whole first two weeks were absolutely ideal, especially for a boy who was trying to escape the mystical magical nonsense his father insisted on teaching him in favor of learning how to get along in the real world all right.

A world based on science rather than spirits was natural and appealing and best of all, would provide a sound future for him. If he stayed here, he could become a doctor.

And because the first two weeks were absolutely ideal, Ryuuken felt as if he'd finally taken the first step towards a life of normalcy.

But by the time tests rolled around, things began to get messy.

He kept to himself in lecture most of the time, took meticulous notes and paid attention to every word. He asked intelligent questions and gave intelligent answers when asked. His goal was to become absolute number one in his whole class.

Which, he supposed, sort of made him a target.

"Hey, it's Ishida, right? A Quincy, yeah? I'm Isshin. Former shinigami."

Ryuuken accidentally snorted tea up his nose.

And that was how that man had walked into his life, just barging in and sitting down next to Ryuuken like he'd known him forever, loud and shameless in the middle of what was supposed to be a quiet lunch break the week before their first exam.

When Ryuuken recovered he managed to shout a confused, nose-burning, "_What_!" in response.

"Um, Quincy, right?" Isshin reiterated, pointing at Ryuuken.

Ryuuken stared at him. "H-how did you…"

Isshin, looking back as if the answer should be obvious, very slowly pointed to himself. "Shinigami."

"That's impossible."

"Why?"

"You're _human_. I don't sense any reiatsu coming off of you and…"

That was about the time Isshin let him know that yes, he did have reiatsu.

The bastard could have warned him beforehand because really, he hadn't needed to snort _more_ tea up his nose.

Once he'd recovered the second time, he'd demanded to know what a shinigami was doing in medical school.

"I quit," Isshin explained, pilfering a slice of Ryuuken's apple as he did. "So I guess I'm not really a shinigami anymore. Well, not really, really."

Ryuuken blinked. "Oh. Well… I'm not a Quincy anymore myself."

"No?"

"I refuse to live for an outdated legacy. The Quincy are dead," Ryuuken responded simply.

"Hey, I totally understand," Isshin agreed. "The shinigami are so boring they might as well be."

Ryuuken had been about to tell the ex-shinigami that that was in no way similar, except by then, Isshin had clapped a hand around the other man's shoulders and was looking at him with an expression that really scared him for some inexplicable reason. "Um…yes?"

Isshin flashed him a thumbs-up. "Let's be study buddies!" the other student announced, eyes _sparkling_ at the former Quincy.

Ryuuken blinked. "Study…wait…what?"

"Study buddies. Since we understand each other so well." Another thumbs-up.

Ryuuken gaped a little. "But I… um…"

Isshin wiggled his two upright thumbs a little. "Aa? Aa? Good idea, right?"

"I don't…"

Isshin started to develop an advanced thumbs-up dance choreography with sound effects that included those stupid things zooming around Ryuuken's head as the ex-shinigami waited for his answer.

It was about then that Ryuuken lost his patience and grabbed both offending digits out of the air. "Would you _stop_ that!" he demanded through clenched teeth, fists curled around Isshin's thumbs.

Isshin simply grinned back at him. "So, your place or mine?"

Medical school had never quite been the same after that.

**END**


	110. Hook, Line and Sinker

**110.**

**Title:** Hook, Line and Sinker  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika**  
Word Count:** 607  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers. Just SO MUCH STUPID.  
**Summary: **Continuation of drabble #102 (A Keeper)-Obviously, fishing is to be had here.   
**Dedication:** Christine- because I will probably try to coerce you into drawing the pairing for me. OMG PLEASE.  
**A/N:** I dunno. I think I lost my train of thought for this storyline somewhere back in the OMG SO CUTE GANJYUxHANATAROU FANART area. Those two have been eating my brain since. O.o But I had half an idea for this one, so I wrote it anyway. Leave me alone. ;; It's cuz I don't have any other people's fics to read about them to inspire me! shameless, shameless WHORE is me

* * *

Shuuhei eyed the older man sitting next to him, who was looking stoically into the lake they were fishing in and nowhere else lest he might have to actually look _at_ the ninth division vice-captain. 

Shuuhei would have been insulted if he wasn't so relieved.

He could do silence. Silence was his forte. He could just sit here and uselessly clutch the fishing pole between his hands and…

"Um…so…"

Dammit.

Ayasekawa the elder cleared his throat awkwardly for a moment and finally let his eyes drift over to Hisagi, who was braced and ready for the pounding of a lifetime. Because dads were supposed to do that, right?

"Ah… you're not a crazy stalker, right?"

Shuuhei blinked. "Come again?"

"Stalker. You're not. Right?"

"Um, no. Not a stalker, sir."

Yumichika's father turned that around in his head for a little bit and then turned back to the lake. "Okay. Good. Just so we're clear on that. I don't want to deal with another one."

"Um…okay." Shuuhei waited for the other shoe to drop.

Ayasekawa looked at him again. "Son, you don't gotta be so antsy. I don't like talking too much, but it doesn't mean I'm gonna kill you the first chance I get."

Shuuhei blinked some more. That seemed way too easy. "Oh. Um… so it's okay? Er, even about the whole me being another guy thing?"

"Yumi takes after his mom, a lot. I can't win against her, I can't win against him. So long as he's happy and you're not a crazy stalker."

"Um, definitely not a stalker, sir."

"Then we're all right."

"Um…so… you don't really like talking, huh?" Shuuhei asked after a moment's silence, slightly sheepish at how stupid he must have sounded.

"Not really. I let Yuriko do it."

"I see."

Hisagi turned that around in his head for a little bit.

Smiled some when he understood. Completely understood. "Me too."

"Good."

They spent the rest of the afternoon without saying another word. It was the ideal situation for both of them.

When they got back to the house later that night, catch in hand, they found Yumichika and his mother chatting loudly and excitedly to each other over the kitchen table like they'd just been reunited after years of separation _just now_.

Shuuhei and Ayasekawa looked at each other.

Upon seeing them, Yumi and mother both rose from the table. "How was your fishing trip?" Yumi inquired, beaming between his father and his lover and hoping some kind of connection or understanding had been made.

They simultaneously answered, "Good."

Yumi's smile broadened. "Did you catch a lot?"

Both men held up their respective catches at the same time.

"Excellent, we'll have a wonderful supper!" Yumi's mom enthused, brushing by and relieving the two men of their prizes. "Give me a little while and dinner will be ready. Why don't you two go clean up?"

Both answered, "sure," and kissed their respective spouses before heading towards the bathroom.

Yumi watched them go, and was certain he couldn't be happier.

"They're getting along great, aren't they, mom?"

She smiled back knowingly as she began to prepare their dinner. "They are, which is rare for your father. You did some rather skillful fishing of your own this time, I see."

Yumichika puffed up a little. "Un. I'm rather proud of landing Shuuhei like I did. He put up quite the fight, you know."

She eyed him skeptically. "Did he really now?"

Yumi laughed a little after a second, fingers brushing the spot on his cheek that Shuuhei had kissed on his way out. "No… not really."

His mother chuckled. "Neither did your father."

**END**


	111. Paternal Pride

**111.**

**Title:** Paternal Pride  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru**  
Word Count:** 646  
**Warning/s: **Madarame abuse, some back story spoilers for Ken and Yachiru  
**Summary: **Kenpachi has a moment.  
**Dedication:** Yoshi- HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  
**A/N:** I wanted to try something more serious for the eleventh division in this one, just to see if it was possible at all. Um… yeah. You can see how well that turned out. --;;

* * *

He still doesn't know what made him do it that day, made him pick her up and not just kill her like everyone else. He especially doesn't know why he didn't kill her when the little brat had peed all over him the very same day he'd met her and then had the gall to laugh so sweetly about it.

Not only that but people had whispered too, when they'd shrunk away from him as he'd passed the streets of some forlorn Rukongai district, rumors about how he'd left a bloody trail of murder and mayhem in his wake and was only carrying that poor little baby around in case he needed a snack in-between areas.

He didn't eat babies, for the record.

Not back then, and not now either. Probably too soft for his taste anyway.

However, not eating Yachiru had meant carrying her around with him everywhere, which seemed to indicate to the average uneducated Rukongai bandit that Kenpachi was an easy target as a father traveling alone with his infant daughter towards the more hospitable inner districts.

Kenpachi remembers how difficult it had been at first, to balance Yachiru in one hand and properly kill with the other, but he'd gotten used to it after a while, and she never seemed to mind the blood so it was probably for the best that he held on to her rather than put her down in those situations.

It was rough going for a while, and there had been several hundred times when he'd just wanted to put her down somewhere and never look back, but he never did, and to this day he still wonders what it was about her that made him keep her like he had, when before the thought of holding on to someone else for no other reason than to hold them had never once crossed his mind.

He remembers days when food was scarce but he would feed her anyway, remembers that he'd taken some of his battle funds for clothes and diapers and even candy every now and again, instead of buying the alcohol he'd sorely needed after a particularly gruesome fight.

He remembers sometimes, being so hungry the thought of eating her hadn't been unappealing, though all that had ever come to was feeding her what was left of their rations and putting her bed before moving on in hopes of finding someone else to challenge for their life and more importantly, their money.

It had been a long, hard trek with many bloody battles along the way that saw them to the inner sanctum of seireitei.

Sometimes he wonders to himself why he picked her up and kept her as long as he did, especially considering when people see her nowadays, so happy and cheerful and cute that it totally ruins his badass image when they realize he's her caretaker.

The most fearsome captain in seireitei has an adorable little daughter. It's not the PR he wants, and he thinks that having Yachiru around him as constantly as he does will only serve to further ruin the image he's so rigorously built up for himself.

But maybe that's okay.

Because it's during moments like these when he feels as if all his hard work in the past is making up for itself, like the sacrifices he made for her back in her infancy are being rewarded. It's moments like these when he knows every minute of lugging her through Rukongai, feeding her, changing diapers, clothing her, protecting her, was worth it.

Because it's moments like these when he feels closest to her, feels like he's part of the family he'd never had before.

And as she drags a screaming, clawing, slightly bloodied Madarame Ikkaku around the grounds by his left foot, he thinks that he couldn't feel prouder.

This, this is definitely a father's greatest reward.

**END**


	112. Mister Perfect

**112.**

**Title:** Mister Perfect  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika**  
Word Count:** 944  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers that I can see.  
**Summary: **Companion drabble but not really) to #110 (Hook, Line and Sinker)- Shuuhei does have a flaw under all that coolness.  
**Dedication:** Shirong- hope everything is going well thus far in Japan! We miss you!  
**A/N:** I felt like mindless fluff, so I wrote mindless fluff. And it came out so much more mindless than I ever could have hoped. Damn my overachievements in all the wrong places!

* * *

Shuuhei was one of the most perfect people Yumi had ever met. He was intelligent, dedicated, polite, thoughtful, kind, honest, and had a warm affection that, once drawn out, was the most intoxicating experience the other shinigami had ever been privy to.

He was considerate and generous in everything they did together and indulged with infinite patience, Yumi's more emotive, self-acknowledged pettiness.

Really, if Yumi had to point out a flaw in his lover, there was just this one little thing that he had to admit wasn't even that bad, just kind of…

"Yumi! Oi, Yumi!"

…bothersome.

At the sound of Shuuhei's familiar voice, Yumichika turned around from the conversation he was having with some of his eleventh division subordinates in the afternoon shade.

The ninth division vice-captain was bearing down on their location with one of his more determined strides and Ayasekawa realized a bit belatedly, that having a semi-circle of young, eager-to-please underlings surrounding him, while not a big deal for _normal_ people, would inevitably trigger Shuuhei's one flaw.

He tended to be a little jealous.

"Uh oh, watchdog's here," one of the younger shinigami murmured to his neighbor, who nodded in trepidation.

"Ah, senpai, we're gonna be off then, 'kay?" the subordinate announced hastily before bowing. "Thanks for letting us talk with you!" he added, before he and the other four stood and beat a quick retreat.

Yumi rolled his eyes to himself and leaned back against the tree he was sitting under as Shuuhei approached.

"Hi," Hisagi greeted, though his eyes followed the departing subordinates until they were what must have been an appropriate distance away. "Who were they?"

Yumi crossed his arms and looked up at the other shinigami with an arched brow. "My secret lovers, obviously."

Shuuhei frowned. "Not funny."

"Jealous?"

"Maybe."

Yumi sighed and rubbed at his temples. "You have to stop doing that."

"Er, doing what?" Shuuhei asked in a poor attempt to feign innocence as he sat down beside Yumi.

"That," Yumi explained, poking his lover in the side. "I thought you told dad you weren't a stalker."

"'m not, I'm a worrier," Shuuhei clarified, leaning into Yumi's shoulder. "There's a difference."

Yumi sighed as Shuuhei's arms went around his waist and the vice-captain laid his cheek against the crook of Ayasekawa's neck. "If I were a stalker I woulda just killed those starry-eyed punks, no questions asked."

"Just a worrier?"

"Yup."

Ayasekawa sighed ruefully. "I knew you had to have a flaw under all that perfectness somewhere," he chuckled with a very slight hint of bemusement. Shuuhei grunted and bit down on his collarbone sharply enough to sting just a little bit. "Oh, that's mature," Yumi chided, though he'd been expecting it.

"Mmmph."

"Your flaws aside, it still stings a little that you don't seem to trust _me_," Yumi admitted after a moment of them just sitting like that. He absently thread his fingers through Shuuhei's somehow, stylish mess of hair.

"I do trust you. I don't trust _them. _There's a bunch of charming bastards out there, ya know."

Yumi smiled a little to himself because it was simultaneously adorable and ridiculous, how Shuuhei failed to recognize his own worth. "What, you don't think you have enough charm to hold me over?"

"…no," Shuuhei admitted reluctantly. "I keep thinking that one day you're going to realize you could do so much better and find some asshole who talks more and smiles more and spoils you rotten and what'm I gonna do after that? I _will _have to become some crazy stalker and kill the bastard."

Yumi was getting more and more highly amused each second despite how pathetic Shuuhei was sounding at the moment. "Let me get this straight… you're afraid I'm going to find someone better than _you_?" His lover obviously didn't understand exactly how prime a lot of real estate he was in seireitei. Yumi would be getting death threats for _years _for landing him first.

It made him laugh out loud.

"'s not funny, asshole."

"Yes it is."

"Is not." Pause. "Why?"

"Because for me, there's obviously no one more charming in the world than you, Shuu-chan," Yumi assured him in an indulgent tone as he played with the short hairs at the base of Hisagi's neck.

"You don't know that."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Oh? Who's being immature now?"

"Still you."

"Dammit."

Yumi sighed and absently traced the curve of Shuuhei's shoulder with the tip of his finger. "If I told you you're the coolest, best guy I've ever met and no one could ever be better than you, what would you say?"

Shuuhei looked up skeptically. "I'd say you're even crazier than I thought you were."

Yumi chuckled at his lover's expression and kissed his nose. "How about if I said I love you then?"

Shuuhei's cheeks pinked slightly and he averted his eyes with a little groan. "I'd say I love you too. Cheater."

"So you're not going to be jealous anymore?"

"Che. Of course I am."

Yumichika sighed and rested his chin on top of Shuuhei's head. "Okay."

He supposed, no one could be expected to be flawless.

And Shuuhei, despite his one drawback, was probably the closest anyone would ever get.

Almost perfect.

And so they sat like that together for the rest of the day, Yumi watching the sunset and Shuuhei watching rather shamelessly for potential rivals. After a while, when the sun was all but gone and Yumichika felt Shuuhei's gentle snoring against his throat, he smiled and continued to stroke his lover's hair, supposing to himself that if this was what almost-perfect was like, it was all he really needed anyway.

**END**


	113. Practical Examination

**113.**

**Title:** Practical Examination  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou (vaguely)**  
Word Count:** 748  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers by proxy? Dunno. O.o  
**Summary: **Companion Drabble to the chain of drabbles that began with #46 (Please State Your Reason for Applying)- Ganjyu helps Hanatarou out this time.   
**Dedication:** Shirong- I LOVED your package, thank you so much!  
**A/N:** Yes, I've been horribly lazy lately. I think the absence of having anything I HAVE to do has taken away the drabble frenzy and now I just nap a lot or write all leisurely-like on whatever I want. A sentence here, a word there, some editing there, and nothing really gets completely done. Except for this, I guess. O.o Oh, and as for the bi-annual exam, um, totally made that up, so excuse the huge amounts of B/S.

* * *

"Ganjyu-san?"

Ganjyu looked away at the pleased, if somewhat baffled expression Hanatarou was throwing at him as he came out of the fourth division headquarters, arms full of large, archaic looking textbooks.

"Yo," the shinigami-in-training greeted in return, taking his hands out of his pockets to relieve Yamada of his load.

"Aaa… you don't have to carry it all, Ganjyu-san! I…"

"Cool it, huh? It's easier this way… I can see you better and ya won't trip all over yourself like that."

"Oh…okay…" Hanatarou smiled sheepishly, fiddling with the strap to his medical bag. "Sorry for the trouble!" he apologized after a second, looking at the ground.

"Why're you always apologizing? Tako…" Ganjyu sighed, bumping the little shinigami with his shoulder since both arms were occupied.

"Sorry! Um… I mean…I'm… not sorry?"

Ganjyu chuckled to himself a little. "Just…never mind."

"Ah…okay… heh." Hanatarou looked back up at his companion with large eyes. "Um… not that I'm er, not happy to see you or anything, but uh…"

"Why'd I come pick you up?"

"Un."

Ganjyu shrugged one shoulder. "You've got that exam in a coupla days, yeah?" the academy student asked nonchalantly. "I figured you'd have a lotta stuff you'd want to look at tonight, and I wasn't sure if…"

"Of course I was still coming to dinner!" Hanatarou hastily assured him. "It's always my favorite part of the week, to eat with Ganjyu-san and Kuukaku-san. I um, would have said something if I weren't…"

"I know that!" Ganjyu responded just as quickly. "I just figured you'd want to study after dinner…'s all. I know I'm not much help…but since you uh, always help me out before tests, I figure I could you know, help you this time."

Hanatarou blinked up at him. "Eh? Really?"

"Che, don't gotta look so surprised, runt."

The little shinigami smiled brilliantly at Ganjyu. "Sorry! I'm just… so…you'll really help me?"

"I said so, didn't I?"

"Waah, thank you, Ganjyu-san!"

"Oi… 's not that big a deal, ya know… don't gotta be so loud. You'll probably do fine either way, yeah?"

"Sorry! I just… I've been nervous about this exam for a while," Hanatarou admitted with a small chuckle.

"Yeah, I could tell," Ganjyu replied with a little frown. "I uh, think you'll do fine, for the record," he added, knowing that most of the fourth division had been worked up lately over their bi-annual exam.

He could see how having to do a two-part, written and practical exam that tested each shinigami's medical knowledge and spiritual power to determine seats could be nerve-wracking. The other divisions just had battle challenges to determine those sorts of things. These guys had a lot more expected of them than just winning a fight, he supposed. They had to know a million different ways to get someone to _stop_ hurting.

But knowing Hanatarou and having gotten used to the little death god's study habits over the entire time Ganjyu had been enrolled in the academy, he didn't think the runt should worry at all.

"Ne…Ganjyu-san… you really don't mind…"

"I already said so, didn't I? Yeesh, ya act like you've never helped me out with nothin' before or something. I mean, it, whatever ya need to study, I'll help you. Isn't it always the same for you when you're helping me?" Ganjyu grumbled, shifting the books to one arm so he could reach out and poke Hana in the shoulder, nearly tipping him over. "You must think I'm pretty flaky or something to not return the favor, huh?"

"No, no, that's not it!" Hanatarou quickly assured him, regaining his balance. "I just… um…" he looked down at the ground, his cheeks cutely pink. "I just um…"

Ganjyu smirked a little to himself upon seeing that blush and moved his hand to rest atop Yamada's head. "Yeah? You just what?" he urged with surprising gentleness.

"I just um… didn't think Ganjyu-san would be willing to um, let me touch him when he didn't have any clothes on," Hanatarou stammered, cheeks turning even redder as he spoke.

Ganjyu sighed. "Look, I already said I'd… wait, what?"

Hanatarou looked up at him hopefully.

Ganjyu blinked and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, looked down at one of the textbooks he was carrying. It, much to his chagrin, read exactly as he feared.

"Practical Anatomy- Reiatsu and Healing by Feeling."

The larger man swallowed and smiled nervously at a happy, adorably flushed Hanatarou.

So… it was _that_ kind of practical.

**END**


	114. Breadwinner

**114.**

**Title:** Breadwinner  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ryuuken, Uryuu**  
Word Count:** 600  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for um, I guess episode 44 of the anime and I don't remember what chapter of the manga.  
**Summary: **Ishida Ryuuken has a job to do.  
**Dedication:** My Dad- he works hi ass off too, and I'm grateful for every second of it.  
**A/N:** Okay, so I watched part of episode 44 today and OMG Ryuuken love. There's something too heartbreakingly sweet about his motives, I think, that I couldn't help myself in writing something for him. I don't think it's a good piece myself, but I think it's very honest to how touched I felt when I watched the scene between him and young Uryuu, so I don't want to rework it for any sort of flair or even stylistic coherency. It's just my spontaneous overflow of emotion at having been moved by that scene, I suppose. So bear with me, okay? I tend to get stupid when I get emotional, and that sequence just made me very emotional. Also, probably the last drabble update in a while, since I'm back home in TX now and this computer doesn't have microsoft word. --;;

* * *

Today is Uryuu's middle school graduation ceremony and Ryuuken wonders how his son must look, standing at the top of the class as his school's number one student, there with his grandfather watching him as tears and laughter are exchanged, as an important part of a young person's life is commemorated and the children look towards the next step of growing up. 

Today is Uryuu's graduation and Ryuuken wonders how it must be for his son as he sits in his dark office and studies a series of X-rays from one of this morning's patients. His secretary asks him if he doesn't want anything to eat as the lunch hour has come and gone, and he tells her not to bother him because the list of patients is long and the work is barely done. He tells her to please just settle the bills for the cases he has already seen to and to make sure the payments are cleared promptly.

Today is his only son's important day, a once-in-a-lifetime passing from one age of life to another.

Ryuuken sits in his office and pores over forms and charts and numbers and has no regrets for not going.

His father is undoubtedly there with Uryuu, smiling and taking pictures and seeing to the boy's supplementary needs, as the old man has always been best at attending to.

Ryuuken sits in his office and studies medical tests and documents the appropriate files and consults his specialized sources.

His father will care for Uryuu in his own way, will hug the boy and pat his head and tell him what a wonderful child he is. The forms of affection that Ryuuken has never been particularly good at.

Instead, Ryuuken will work through his hunger and his fatigue and when the bills are paid and there is a roof over his son's head and food is on the table, he will feel absolutely no regrets.

Because even though he's not as good as his father at telling Uryuu in so many words, Ryuuken has always cared for his son in his own way too. It's the only way he knows how.

Today is Ishida Uryuu's one and only middle school graduation ceremony.

Ishida Ryuuken sits in his office and tends to his patients. He examines charts and graphs and researches symptoms and prescriptions and the latest medical innovations. His stomach rumbles and his eyes ache and he knows he has not slept for over twenty-nine hours now.

He briefly looks at the picture sitting on the corner of his desk and clutches his pen tighter in his tired hand.

He goes back to work.

Today is Ishida Uryuu's special middle school graduation ceremony.

Ryuuken clenches his teeth and works hard and comes home at the end of the day with a crick in his neck and a headache. He quietly goes up the stairs and peers into his son's room, where Uryuu is sleeping securely in a warm bed after having a good meal and a hot bath. Ryuuken studies the peaceful expression on his son's face for a moment in the doorway before he closes it quietly behind him and goes to his own room, where he turns on a light, opens his briefcase, and begins shifting through the files he will need for his many appointments tomorrow.

Today was Ishida Uryuu's important middle school graduation, and his grandfather was the only one there to see him through it.

Ryuuken sits down at his desk and does his work and has no regrets.

Because he loves Uryuu in his own way too.

**END**


	115. Vindictive

**  
115.**

**Title:** Vindictive  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Histugaya, Matsumoto, Yachiru**  
Word Count:** 434  
**Warning/s: **Um… just, random stupidity.  
**Summary: **Hitsugaya is responsible and rational and calm. Mostly.   
**Dedication:** JaB- Totally her idea, I just wrote it and made it stupid and uncool. Meh.  
**A/N:** I don't know. I really don't. I think it's the me trying to write a Bleach crossover with One Piece that's throwing my sense of writing equilibrium straight to hell. THEY DON'T MESH WELL, DAMMIT!

* * *

Hitsugaya Toushirou didn't consider himself a vindictive type of person at all. In fact, he liked to think he was very calm and cool and rational about most everything. He was well beyond his years in maturity really, which was why he could handle the huge responsibility of being a captain at such a young age. 

He wasn't vindictive at all, when it came to most things.

But there were a few things that just _got_ to him.

He was _not_ short.

He was _young_ goddammit. He hadn't had enough time to become un-short.

So when people made fun of his height, be it drunk or sober, he got a little angry.

And Matsumoto, as drunk as she had been, had called him short.

Not only had she called him short, she, with her red cheeks and intimidating sashaying, had grabbed him around the shoulders and shoved his face into her chest and cooed drunkenly about how cute and little and short and small and petite and tiny and diminutive her cute little short captain Shirou-chan was.

And when he thought he'd been on the verge of blacking out from lack of oxygen, she'd passed out first, from over indulgence.

So she'd dropped him.

And promptly landed on top of him, snoring like a roaring Hollow with her scary chest resting right on top of his now crushed hair.

Normally, Hitsugaya Toushirou didn't think he was a very vindictive sort of guy. And he was responsible most of the time, a good captain and a caring friend.

But there were just some things…

He sat idly by in the late afternoon sunlight and watched as Kusajika-fukutaichou jumped on Matsumoto's buoyant breasts, laughing sweetly and marveling in a cutely innocent little-girl sort of way, at how soft and bouncy and nice smelling the blonde's front was, even if her breath was really stinky and she made funny noises when she slept.

It all gave Hitsugaya an amazingly evil sense of satisfaction to see.

He just hoped Yachiru didn't drown in those things or anything.

But really, Toushirou didn't let himself feel bad about anything because he knew this rare indulgence in his vindictive side would wear off soon, and then he was going to drag his unconscious vice-captain out of the quad, where everyone was staring at her as Yachiru bounced away.

He was Ran-chan's captain after all, and a responsible, reliable type of guy in the long run. He'd definitely drag her out of there eventually.

Just… you know, once his vindictive side felt properly satisfied.

So until then, he just enjoyed the show.

**END **


	116. This Stays Between Us

**  
116.**

**Title:** This Stays Between Us  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IbaxIkkaku and a surprise (CRACK)**  
Word Count:** 383  
**Warning/s: **Drunken debauchery? No spoilers though.   
**Summary: **Crack fic- The morning after is never fun, is it?   
**Dedication:** JaB again- okay, she asked for Orgy, but this is close enough, right? Right.  
**A/N:** Um… I'm going to hell, aren't I? Yes I am. You better draw me pron, JaB. I mean it.

* * *

"Urrrrgh." 

"Fucker, get off of me…" Ikkaku groaned, shoving Iba's foot off of him forcibly. "I mean it, asshole, get on your s…"

"Muurr?"

"HOLY SHIT."

Iba blinked stupidly upon hearing Madarame's expletive, forcing his eyes open only to regret it right after, as the pounding in his head somehow intensified with that small action alone. "Mmmg… Ikkaku?" he croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

Ikkaku, too freaked out to pay too much heed to his own pounding head, tensed. "Please tell me you're not naked too."

"What the fuck is going on?" the seventh division vice-captain groaned painfully. "I…"

"Iba_, tell me you're not naked too_."

"…er…what?"

"Naked, asshole! Do you have clothes on?"

"Argh, not so loud," Iba whined, holding his aching head in his hands. "What the hell are you going on about?"

Ikkaku, on the verge of outright panic, forgot about asking and moved a hand under the covers and grasped.

"SHIT! Leggo!"

"Oh god you are naked."

Ikkaku wiggled experimentally. Winced. "Fuckin' hell, and I'm sore. _Dammit._"

Iba blinked, finally fully and torturously awake after Ikkaku's not-so-gentle gropage. "Sore? Naked?"

Ikkaku clenched his teeth. "Yeah."

"Wait…that means…"

"Yeah… I think."

"Sore… really? You are?"

"Not a word, asshole."

The larger shinigami breathed a sigh of relief. "At least I still have that," he muttered, moving to rub his aching temples. He paused when he winced, feeling a telltale pinch coming from down below. "Oh shit." Iba wiggled a little himself. "Waitaminute…I'm sore too. _Dammit._"

Ikkaku blinked. "Wait…what?"

"You bastard! What did you do to me?" Tetsuzaemon accused angrily.

"I… the same thing you did to me, asshole!"

"Nerg."

Both arguing shinigami froze mid-accusation at the sound of another voice. "Who's there?" the eleventh division third chair demanded after a beat, pulling the blankets reflexively up over his violated chest.

Both shinigami gaped stupidly as Abarai Renji's head appeared from Iba's other side, the sixth division vice-captain blinking blearily and looking rather put out at having been woken up so early.

"_Renji_?"

"Would the two of you shut the hell up? I'm too goddamned hung-over for this shit," the redhead muttered irately before rolling over and going back to sleep without another word.

Ikkaku and Iba looked at each other in absolute horror.

"No fuckin' way."

**END**


	117. Oniisan

**  
117.**

**Title:** Oniisan  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kon, Ichigo**  
Word Count:** 183  
**Warning/s: **Um…lots of stupidity and some OOCness?  
**Summary: **Kon speaks inappropriately.  
**Dedication:** Mel- she tried to prompt me to write this in five lines. Then it exploded because I talk too much. I AM A FAILURE.  
**A/N:** LAME.

* * *

"You know, Yuzu's going to get pretty cute one day," Kon muses with a light in his eye that Ichigo doesn't quite like. "Karin too, actually. Twins, huh? I mean yeah, they don't look identical, but still… " The mod soul leers as he says the words 'twins' and 'identical' and Ichigo feels his eye tick reflexively in response. "Hmmm… five years from now and the two of them… that's kinda... eheheheheh." 

Ichigo would punch the dirty bastard, except right now, that would suck. So instead he glares and says, "Don't ever say that again wearing my body."

Pause. "You know what? Just don't ever say it again ever."

Kon grins. "And you know that picture of your mom down stairs? Hubba-hubba… ACK."

Ichigo ends up punching the bastard anyway.

The next day, as he's walking around school with a self-inflicted black eye, Kurosaki comforts himself with the knowledge that Kon is duct-taped to the back of the toilet tank again and that Isshin's first bowel movement of the day is a punishment worse than death.

It makes the mortification all worth it.

**END **


	118. Skirt Chaser

**  
118.**

**Title:** Skirt Chaser  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake**  
Word Count:** 652  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but longwinded weirdness. --;;  
**Summary: **Kyouraku loves women.  
**Dedication:** The other writers for KyourakuxUkitake. I know you're out there somewhere. PLEASE COME OUT.  
**A/N:** Um, I don't know. I just felt like I hadn't written these two in a while. So I did. This was the only idea that could come to my mind at 2:30 in the morning, my last night in LA. SUMMER OBVIOUSLY KILLS MY BRAIN LIKE WOAH.

* * *

Kyouraku Shunsui loves women. Ukitake knows that there's simply something old-fashioned in the other captain that adores how soft and sweet and pretty women are, how they are the embodiment of all things beautiful and good. Shunsui wants to protect them from the bad things, thinks somewhere in that idealistic head of his that someone like him is useless if he cannot work to be strong and take care of those rare, beautiful things like women that exist in the world.

So Shunsui loves his women. They're all beautiful to him, all splendid and good and kind because he's convinced there is never anything ugly about any girl. He refuses to believe that there is anything inherently bad about these sweet, gentle creatures that he cares so deeply for.

And so he flirts shamelessly with Unohana whenever he sees her because she is absolutely stunning no matter her age or how matronly she may seem.

He compliments Hinamori on her hair and pats her head and tells her how cute she is, and what a fine woman she will grow to become.

He kisses Matsumoto's cheeks and twirls her around when they run into each other, and she laughs and indulges him and even kisses his cheeks in return sometimes, bold and lively and full of sass.

He brings Nemu presents when he has to see Mayuri, not letting her fade into the background as her father prefers her to. He lavishes attention on her because he believes someone so cute should not be kept under such tight control like she is. He gives her candies and ribbons for her hair and winks at her when he's supposed to be conversing with Mayuri, and the pretty blush that blossoms across her cheeks warms his heart.

He even smiles at Soi Fong when they pass each other in a corridor, tells her that he's certain she has a heart-stopping smile under all those glares and that he would love to see it someday, if she ever feels like showing it to anyone. He even chuckles when she tells him she knows a couple of_ other_ ways to stop his heart if he wants it so badly. He thinks she's gorgeous as she storms off, her ears slightly pink as she leaves him behind.

As for Nanao, he spoils her a little bit because she is so strict and uptight that he thinks she's never had the proper sort of attention lavished on her that she deserves, the quiet bookish type that she is. So he makes a big deal out of everything, calls her name loudly and declares how precious she is, how beautiful and strong she is and how much he admires and cares for her. She rolls her eyes at him most of the time, but everyone can see that she enjoys hearing it every now and again; simply as a reminder that she is a woman and that she is still lovely, even under the stress of her job and the strict bearing that she forces herself to operate under.

Shunsui loves women enough to care about these little details in their lives, and while some people view it simply as the eighth division captain behaving like some sort of old, perverted rake, it only makes Ukitake love the other man more. Because as thoughtful as Kyouraku is with those women he loves so much, it is Jyuushirou's bed that he returns to at night.

Unquestionably, Shunsui loves all women, all equally.

But Ukitake Jyuushirou understands that he is loved as well. And he sleeps comfortably knowing that he doesn't have to share that title with anyone else in Shunsui's heart, because he is the only Ukitake Jyuushirou there is.

And that is enough to quell any jealousy the thirteenth division captain might have, because while Shunsui declares that he loves all women, he only agrees to loving one man.

**END**


	119. Something Precious

**119.**

**Title:** Something Precious  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ryuuken**  
Word Count:** 479  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the post-soul society arc, sort of. Maybe not, I don't know. Depends.  
**Summary: **Ryuuken makes a choice.  
**Dedication:** Greg- Thanks for dinner tonight! I'll see you when I get back.  
**A/N:** I'm going to see my daddy tomorrow, for the first time in a long time (Since March, I believe?). That's a long time to me, okay? And I haven't been home in over a year, so this will be interesting. Thus, I have papa-Ryuuken love again. --;; I'm such a daddy's girl.

* * *

There's a small life in his hands that he is responsible for now, and as he looks at it, he thinks that there is something profoundly moving about the way a tiny hand wraps into a fist around one of his long fingers. 

It's a heavy weight that settles in his chest as he looks down at that pink, wrinkled face, surprisingly bright eyes gazing back up at him curiously.

He finds himself staring thoughtfully at the little person that is suddenly the center of his universe, and there is an accompanying feeling of deep, dark dread that washes over him at the same moment that he feels the staggering presence of what can only be described as overwhelming love.

The conflicting emotions tear fiercely at him for a while before he feels something break inside, and with something akin to realization battering his heart, he very quietly turns with his son in his arms to face the moonlit window.

Uryuu makes a contented gurgling noise and releases his father's index finger with a little sigh as his eyes begin to flutter closed. Ryuuken rocks him gently for a moment and thinks that his arms have never felt so heavy.

Outside, he can hear the roar of a Hollow, a chilling noise that has been bellowing angrily in his ears for some time now, while he has been here in the nursery holding his son.

A part of him yearns to don his Quincy clothing and challenge the beast, longing for the familiar rush and uncertainty of battle to flood his veins as they have numerous times before. His heart remembers how it is to fill with excited anticipation right before engaging such a monster in the field.

He wants to go.

But Uryuu is fast asleep in his arms now, and that weight keeps him from drawing his bow and chasing the creatures of the night without a care, as he had in the past.

Because now he cannot be the reckless hero that he wanted to exist as forever, back in the carefree days of his youth. Now, there is something much more overwhelming in his life than his own dreams and it makes for a profound weight in his arms that keeps him from chasing after them.

Because now, there are more important things in his life than what he wants.

After a while he lies a sleeping Uryuu down in his crib and leans down to kiss the back of a tiny hand. Allowing himself one last look out into the night sky, he hears the Hollow's roar and takes a deep breath when he feels the blood racing through his veins in response to the monster's fearsome challenge. It's almost too difficult to ignore.

But one look over his shoulder at a peacefully slumbering infant is all it takes.

He pulls the curtains closed.

**END**


	120. Hungover

**120.**

**Title:** Hung-over  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou**  
Word Count:** 976 (that's still under a thousand! Yes!)  
**Warning/s: **I guess, spoilers for the Soul Society arc by proxy… but nothing specific in THIS particular story. --;;  
**Summary: **Sequel drabble to #103 (Drunken Something)- Hanatarou wakes up after the party.  
**Dedication:** Dave, who is going to draw me yaoi soon.  
**A/N:** Weird parallels all over the place? Probably. It's hot and I'm tired and I just wanted to write something sappy and fanservicey. Not to mention I wanted to get this DONE cuz I said I'd do it, and now it IS. FINALLY. Geez. These two really are reluctant to go beyond mind-numbingly fluffy, I'm not joking. This was really hard to write. Lemme know if it worked. Or if it FAILED… It probably failed. --;;

* * *

When Hanatarou wakes up he finds himself in Ganjyu's bed wearing Ganjyu's clothes and sporting a throbbing headache. He doesn't remember much about the night before and the way he wakes up makes him fear that something has happened and that he'll have to do lots of apologizing later to make it up to Ganjyu.

He wants to panic, wants to sit straight up and look around and find that he's dreaming and that he didn't _really_ get drunk last night and pass out.

But he can't even do the sitting up part because there's a warm, solid weight thrown across his side that keeps him from bolting when he tries to move.

He knows it's Ganjyu's arm because it really can't be anyone else's, and that relieves him and embarrasses him at the same time because it's nice even if it's unintentional, and he knows he shouldn't be thinking things like this about someone who he obviously put through a lot of trouble a few hours earlier.

Cheeks red, Hanatarou apologizes a thousand times to Ganjyu in his head both for last night and his impure thoughts just now. He hopes he didn't do anything unforgivable to his friend the other night, knowing that his inhibitions must have been long gone. The thought makes his shoulders tense and his head hurt more, and he squirms a little, trying to get out from under the weight of that arm without waking Ganjyu.

"Finally awake, huh?"

He freezes mid-wiggle when he hears Ganjyu's voice, groggy and a bit cranky sounding, but definitely awake. "G-ganjyu-san?"

"You all right?" the larger man asks, keeping his voice low and trying to sound relaxed, though there's an underlying tension to its quality that makes Hanatarou nervous too.

"My head hurts a little," Hanatarou admits, waiting for Ganjyu to realize that he's still holding on to him and to forcibly let him go.

"Uh… I guess it's expected," Ganjyu replies. And then his arm moves, but not off of Hanatarou. Instead the shinigami, with wide eyes, realizes that Ganjyu is rubbing his stomach soothingly, if awkwardly.

"G-ganjyu-san?"

"You threw up on me last night, ya know."

"Aah… sorry! I'm sorry… I…"

"Shhh, 's fine. Got it all cleaned up, though your uniform might not be dry yet."

The other man's voice sounds strained, and Hanatarou thinks that Ganjyu is waiting for him to do something, though he's not sure what, and the arm around him is still moving slowly, like it's some sort of test that he doesn't know the answer to and time is running out.

"I'm sorry," Hanatarou murmurs again, cheeks flushed pink. It's reflexive really, he never knows what else to say.

"'s all right," Ganjyu responds after a moment, voice thick.

When Hanatarou feels Ganjyu remove his arm, another sort of panic sets in, and it's worse than his drunken headache because this makes something else hurt altogether.

It feels like some sort of last chance. Without thinking, Hanatarou turns over and moves closer to Ganjyu, until he's right next to him with the top of his head touching the underside of the larger man's chin.

"Hana…"

"Sorry, I…sorry. My head hurts…I can't think right now," Hanatarou murmurs quickly, shuddering a little as he buries his face against Ganjyu's chest, curled up into a tiny ball beside his friend.

"'s all right. You had a rough night," Ganjyu soothes after a moment, and Hanatarou sighs when he feels that arm drape around him again. "This okay?" Ganjyu asks, because Hanatarou is still shaking.

Hanatarou nods again and they just stay still after that. The little shinigami thinks that Ganjyu is being far too nice to someone who threw up all over him the night before, especially when that person passed out afterwards and made him clean the both of them up and get them back to his home all by himself.

And all Hanatarou's had to say for it was "I'm sorry" even though there are a thousand other things he has to say instead. He knows he should at least say thank you, though he doesn't want to move right now.

His head hurts and he isn't thinking right. But even still, he knows he should at least say thank you somehow, especially after everything he's put Ganjyu through. So he slowly pushes back a little and forces himself to look up into Ganjyu's face for the first time that morning.

Ganjyu gazes back at him steadily but doesn't say anything and Hanatarou wonders if Ganjyu's head hurts from last night too, because it shows a bit on his face, though not to the same extent that it must on the shinigami's.

Hanatarou looks back and waits for his brain to kick in and do something, especially since he knows he should say thank you after everything that's happened.

And Ganjyu looks like he's waiting for something too, though Hanatarou isn't sure if it's a thank you or something else.

Ganjyu's arm is still resting around his side and Hanatarou's still shaking a little bit, trying to get his brain to work and say thank you or do _something _because Ganjyu is waiting, expectant and anxious looking and with his arm all nice and warm and touching Hanatarou's waist…

Hanatarou kisses him.

He doesn't know why that's the first thing he can think of to do under the invisible pressure, but it's what his instincts lead him to, and before he knows it he's there with Ganjyu's arms around him, kissing the other man softly and awkwardly while pressed up against his chest, shaking and headachy and slightly hung-over.

He wants to blame it all on the fact that he just can't think right now.

But when Ganjyu touches his cheek and kisses him back, he wonders if maybe it's okay not to think right now anyway.

**END**


	121. Need

**121.**

**Title:** Need  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchigoxRukia**  
Word Count:** 510  
**Warning/s: **Sort-of spoilers for the end of the Soul Society arc… sort-of.  
**Summary: **Ichigo and Rukia don't need each other.  
**Dedication:** Yoshi- thanks for the pictures of all that GREAT Kyou Kara Maou merchandise that I can't have. Dammit! ;;  
**A/N:** Too much shoujo… too much heat, not enough IchixRuki for me lately. Thus… here we are.

* * *

They don't need each other. 

Ichigo can say that because he's lived without her before and lives without her during the in-between now, so he knows that Rukia, while an important part of his life, isn't an absolutely necessary component of his existence that's required to be there in order for him to function.

He's seen enough romantic movies and read enough manga to know that love in those spheres means that there's someone you need so much that you can't live without them, that it hurts to be apart and that you're not supposed to be able to walk or eat or breathe without that special person near you.

He thinks that's all bullshit in the end, because even though he loves her, he knows that she doesn't necessarily need to be there beside him twenty-four-seven in order for him to walk or eat or breathe.

Their love isn't like that.

Because if it were, it would just be a burden in the end, wouldn't it?

She knows it too, feels exactly the same way. He can see it when they look into each other's eyes for the first time after a long period of separation.

During that time apart, they sure as hell haven't needed each other so much that they haven't been able live without one another. It might be a far cry from the romantic ideal, or even sort of callous to think something like that about the person you love, but the two of them have never bothered with dressing up the facts no matter how unappealing they might sound.

She's been fine without him, and he's been fine without her, both of them doing what needed to be done in their own lives. That's just how it is.

Maybe their love isn't the thing of great epic stories or even a monthly shoujo magazine because of it.

But that doesn't mean it isn't love.

They definitely don't need each other; at least, not so much that one would inevitably die without the other. They're not like that at all.

But they do want to be together, and though that's very different from needing, neither of them thinks that what they have is any less strong for it.

"It's been a while. I missed you."

"I missed you too."

It's simple like that when they reunite, no stars or blinding lights or hearts or flowers. There's no dramatic music in the background, no overdone words that profess everlasting love and devotion or speeches that lament precious time lost in the pain of separation.

Instead, he simply offers her his hand and she takes it, and they walk side-by-side and talk about what they've been doing since the last time they were able to meet.

And though they can see in each other's eyes that they haven't _needed_ to see each other during their time apart, they both know that they _wanted_ to, and that's all that matters in the long run anyway.

"I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad I'm here."

And that's all they need.

**END **


	122. The Second Round

**122.**

**Title:** The Second Round  
**Rating: **PG-13 for language  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Ichigo**  
Word Count:** 466  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers by proxy for the Soul Society arc, but nothing specific in here. Just warnings for OOC stupidity. ;;  
**Summary: **Continuation of sorts to #92 (The First Step)- Kenpachi discovers his inner otaku.  
**Dedication:** To pushers everywhere, because I just pushed Hajime no Ippo on my brothers and it was the greatest feeling ever. XD  
**A/N:** Yeah, yeah, OOC and all that. But it's FUN. The idea of Kenpachi as an otaku is FUN to me, and so I'm just doing this because I wanna and not because I believe it could in any way, really happen. Well, maybe not with Naruto. But Ippo… XD

* * *

"But this isn't Ippo." 

"I didn't _bring_ anymore Ippo, you psychopath. How many times do I gotta tell you that?"

"But I want _Ippo_."

"Look, this is what I have, okay? Take it or leave it."

"You have…all of it?"

"Of course not. It's ridiculously long."

"But..."

"It's all I have, all right?" Kurosaki reiterated impatiently, waving the manga in Zaraki's face before shoving it into the other captain's hands. "You can take it or leave it, but the fact is, I don't have more Ippo. What I've got is this."

Zaraki studied the cover of the new manga dubiously.

Ichigo sighed. "So?"

"It's…about ninjas?"

"I said it was, didn't I? Now hurry up, I've gotta go supervise trainin' exercises for the rest of the day."

Zaraki frowned at the manga dubiously. "Naruto…huh?"

Hours later, upon returning to his office, Ichigo discovered a scowling Zaraki sitting cross-legged on the floor, deep in thought and nose high in what looked to be the last available volume of Naruto.

"You're _still_ here?" the orange haired temp captain asked incredulously, too weary from the day's events to try and be subtle about anything.

Upon hearing the other shinigami's voice, Kenpachi looked up from his half finished volume, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Kurosaki… I wanna fight…"

"Hell no! I'm too tired!"

"…ninjas."

Ichigo blinked. "Wait…what?"

"Ninjas! I want to fight 'em! Wouldn't that be cool? Eh? Wouldn't it? Shinigami versus ninjas!" the eleventh division captain exclaimed, eyes alight with enthusiastic bloodlust.

Ichigo blinked some more. "What the hell are you on?"

"No, seriously! I mean… lookit… half these bastards are fuckin' pansy asses, sure, but the other half look pretty strong, yeah? Not stronger'n me of course, 'cuz I bet I could take that Orochimaru guy with _two_ eye-patches on, but some of these ninjas aren't half bad! It'd be a good fight, ne? Don't you think? Huh? Huh?"

"Um… you do realize that none of those ninjas are real, right?"

Zaraki scowled at Ichigo's skepticism. "Yeah? How do _you_ know?" he inquired pugnaciously.

"Because they're in the goddamned _manga_! They're two dimensional, jackass!"

Kenpachi snorted. "Yeah well… you were a guy who didn't think shinigami were real a coupla months ago, didn'tcha?"

Ichigo couldn't really argue with that.

But in either case… hypothetical battles between real-life people/shinigami and ninjas were where he drew his otaku line.

He took two steps forward.

"Gimme that."

"I'm not done yet!"

"Give it."

"Aw c'mon, cheap ass! I was just about to start the one about the _pirates_ after this last one. Ninjas and pirates, right? And shinigami too! It'll be awesome!"

Ichigo stared at Kenpachi for a long, hard moment.

And then kicked his stack of One Piece manga under the bed.

"You aren't allowed to read any more. Ever."

**END**


	123. Play Date

**123.**

**Title:** Play Date   
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ichigo, Isshin, Ishida, Ryuuken**  
Word Count:** 563  
**Warning/s: **Um, not really any spoilers. Just dumbness. Lots of it.  
**Summary: **Parent-teacher conference day in Karakura.  
**Dedication:** laliho- your Isshin kicks my Isshin's ass, but I try because of you. :P  
**A/N:** I don't know. Fighting writer's block + KICKASS fic from TristeOMG why can't I write that well! And then I try. I fail, but at least I try. And for the record, I LOVE TRISTE THE MOST SO THERE.

* * *

"Stop it."

"But…"

"Stop it _now._"

"I'm boooooored."

"Argh. Just. Sit down and shut up, will you?"

"Iccchigo… papa is booooored! Papa wants to plaaaay!"

Kurosaki Ichigo slapped a hand to his forehead. "I don't believe this," he murmured to himself as he and Isshin sat in his school's hallway waiting to meet with his homeroom teacher. "I don't friggin' believe this."

Isshin touched the tips of his index fingers together, looking down at them nervously upon seeing Ichigo's irate body language. "Is…is Ichigo mad with papa?"

Ichigo crossed his arms and stared straight ahead at the wall across from him. "Yes."

"But…but…"

"I told you to be quiet and sit still didn't I? Don't make me take you back to the car. I mean it. I'll do it."

Isshin pouted. "But… I…" He trailed off, fiddling absently with Ichigo's school progress reports, crinkling them beyond repair.

"Would you cut that out? Honestly!" Ichigo growled and snatched them out of the older man's hands, trying to smooth them out as best he could, though the lines of Isshin's previous attempts at paper airplanes were already permanent landmarks on the grade statements.

Isshin sniffed and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye pathetically. "Ichigo doesn't love papa…"

Ichigo sighed and hunkered down lower in his chair, just glad to know that no one else was waiting here with them for their parent teacher conference today.

Honestly, the Kurosaki family was the only one he knew of that had to have the child accompany the parent to one of these things.

"Father, please…just be civil until everything's been taken care of. I know you're busy…"

"I don't see why my attendance is mandatory. I've read the papers and I've signed them. I don't need the word of some bachelor's degree, master's at best, faulty academic to tell me how my son is doing in school."

"…that's the exact thing I don't want you to say."

Ichigo blinked at the sudden arrival of that familiar voice. Sitting up a little straighter in his chair, he was just in time to catch Ishida Uryuu and Ishida Ryuuken as they rounded the corner, the Quincy's father looking irked at having to be bothered and Ishida actually looking apprehensive rather than like his usual arrogant self.

In this case, all family arrogance seemed to have transferred to his father. And then magnified a hundred times.

But that wasn't what was really important with this picture. The important thing was the expression on Ishida's face, because it was absolutely priceless. Ichigo felt his face split into a wicked grin.

It was really too good an opportunity to pass up.

Ichigo eyed his father beside him, who was making whirring airplane sounds and repeatedly clicking the end of the pen that he usually kept in his lab coat, mumbling something about an emergency landing and no oxygen in Siberia as he did.

The younger Kurosaki suddenly had a brilliant idea. "Hey…dad…"

Isshin blinked at the sudden change in his son's tone. "Ichigo… are you… you're not mad at papa anymore?" he asked, pausing mid-click to look at the orange-haired boy hopefully.

Ichigo smiled back, because it was too funny _not_ to. "Nah. Not anymore. But you're still bored, right?"

Isshin's eyes lit up. "Yes!"

Ichigo jerked a thumb towards the approaching duo. "Wanna go make a new friend?"

"Yeah!"

**END**


	124. Boys' Night

**124.**

**Title:** Boy's Night  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, Iba, Ikkaku, Renji**  
Word Count:** 990 (wow, 10 more words and I woulda had to scrap this one. O.o)   
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just dumbness and SERIOUSLY NO KNOWLEDGE OF MAHJONG.  
**Summary: **Companion drabble of sorts to #116 (This Stays Between Us)- The guys have their weekly mahjong night at Shuuhei's place.  
**Dedication:** Greg, since I stole his line. Do you _really _know your limit:P Are you _really_ done?  
**A/N:** Forcing myself to write with this latest development of writer's block in full swing probably wasn't a good idea. But since I probably need to be yelled at for this crap, being yelled at might help, 'cuz I do well with negative reinforcement? Must be the Asian parents always using that on me as a child. shrug Um…all mahjong terms shamelessly jacked from Saiyuki.

* * *

"Che. Why the hell do you always get to be Chiicha, asshole?"

"'Cuz you can't count past ten?"

"You wanna die?"

Shuuhei sighed impatiently as Iba and Ikkaku glared at each other. "Oi, Ikkaku, just let Iba do it, will ya?" Hisagi prompted. "He's already in the east position anyway."

Madarame scowled. "Fine. But don't complain to me when he miscounts the scores," he sniped, before spilling the tiles onto the table in front of them.

"Oi…senpai, we're outta sake," Renji announced as the four began to wash the tiles around.

Shuuhei glared at the redhead. "We haven't even started and ya already drank all the sake?"

"Wasn't me! Totally Iba's fault."

"Hey, _you_ wanna die?" Iba growled back.

"Forget it… I'll go get some more," Shuuhei sighed. "And try to keep it down will ya?"

The other three at the table momentarily forgot their ire at one another and snickered at the statement. "Sorry, senpai," Renji snorted. "Forgot the lil' lady was home."

Shuuhei glared at him. "Watch it, bastard, Yumi's a god for allowin' you three pigs to have mahjong night here, got me? Anyone stains the floor and they're dead," Hisagi promised before disappearing back into the kitchen for more drinks.

"Are we out of something already?"

Shuuhei shook his head as Yumi turned around from where he was fixing a tray of snacks. "Just alcohol, don't worry 'bout it," Shuuhei assured Ayasekawa, frowning as he observed the other man's handiwork on the counter. "Oi… I told you already, you don't gotta play host to these idiots, Yumi. We're just gonna play a few rounds and drink some. It's not supposed to be any hassle."

Yumi shook his head. "It's alright! We need to use this food up before it goes bad anyway…"

Shuuhei sighed. "Um… you're makin' _tako wieners_, babe."

"Well, just because I'm getting rid of the food doesn't mean it can't be pretty," Yumichika huffed in response. "Beautiful food is an important show of hospitality."

Shuuhei rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, offer still stands. Gimme the word and I'll toss those three jerks outside. We can go play at Renji's."

"Nonsense. It's not fair that you always have your mahjong night at their places and never here just because of me, don't you think?"

"It's not a big deal…'s just boys' night," he assured the other man. "'s just… us… guys…" A light bulb went off in Hisagi's head. "Hey Yumi, you wanna play too?"

"Eh? Really?"

"Well, you're a guy, aren't ya? It'll be fine. Besides, this is our house, so if they don't like it, they can leave," Shuuhei promised, taking his lover's arm and tugging him back out towards the action. "C'mon."

When Shuuhei returned it was with sake, snacks _and_ Yumichika in tow, causing a momentary lull in the antics of the other shinigami.

"Yumi's playin' with us," Shuuhei announced as he set the sake down.

"Oh hell no!" Ikkaku immediately protested. "That's a bad, _bad_ idea!"

"I brought tako wieners!" Yumi declared cheerfully, putting the tray in Renji's hands.

"Oi, a little respect for our hosts, yeah?" Iba interrupted, cutting Ikkaku's protests short upon seeing the food. "If Ayasekawa wants to play then let 'im."

"You just want tako wieners!" Ikkaku accused, sourly. "I'm tellin' you, as Yumichika's longtime teammate, I _know_ this is a bad idea!"

"Oi, this is guy's night, ain't it?" Renji asked around a mouthful of meat. "'s fine, he's a guy, he can play."

"But…"

"Shut it, Madarame. We're startin'."

"Che. This is a _bad_ idea…" Ikkaku reiterated, though he complied under the pressure exerted by his happily snacking cohorts.

Several hours later, everyone realized that Ikkaku might've been right.

"Pinfu!"

Everyone stared at Yumi.

"Chii!"

More staring.

"Riichi!"

"Lon!"

"Pinfu again! That's 1,000 more points!"

But then the staring got old and it just became outright disbelief.

"This has got to be some sort of fluke…" Iba muttered. "How does he keep doing that?"

"I _told_ you!" Ikkaku hissed to Tetsuzaemon sullenly. "He has unbelievably good luck. Even more than me after I do my luck-luck dance!"

"He's gotta be cheatin'," Renji murmured, eyeing Ayasekawa as he bounced happily in Hisagi's lap after his fifteenth consecutive victory.

"Waah! Tsumo this time!"

"Kan!"

"Men, tan, pin, ippatsu, shanshoku, iipeikou, dora-ichi! 24,000 points!"

Iba, Ikkaku and Renji looked at their defeated tiles dumbly.

After a moment, Iba picked one up and surreptitiously (angrily) threw it at Ikkaku's head.

"OW! What the hell was _that_ for!" Madarame screamed in an agitated whisper.

"You shoulda said something earlier!" the larger man hissed under his breath as Ayasekawa pecked Hisagi victoriously in the background.

"I _did _say something!"

Renji sighed. "Forget it, I'm out," he announced, loud enough to catch the happy couple's attention.

"Uh…me too."

"Che, yeah, me too. I know my limit. I'm done."

Yumi looked around in bewilderment. "Already? It's not even midnight!"

"Um… work in the mornin' and all that, Ayasekawa, you understand," Iba explained lamely.

"Oh well… good night then! It was nice playing with you all." Yumichika beamed. "Maybe we can play again sometime!"

"Uh…night."

"Later."

"Yeah… thanks for the wieners."

Puzzled, Yumi looked questioningly at Shuuhei as they hightailed it out of the room. Hisagi just shrugged.

Outside, the loser shinigami began dragging themselves home.

"Man, I lost the whole _next_ week's paycheck," Ikkaku mourned.

"We _all_ did, since _you_ didn't warn us properly!"

"Che. Next time we're havin' boy's night at my place."

"Are you kidding? Last time we had it at _your_ place remember what happened!"

Renji snorted. "Yeah, well, it's only 'cuz we got _really _drunk. And you two were only sore for three days! Think about it! What's worse? That or this?" He gestured back towards Shuuhei and Yumichika's place.

The other two thought about it for a moment.

Weighed their options.

Considered possibilities.

Analyzed pros and cons.

And then…

"All right, next week at your place."

**END**


	125. Tentative

**125.**

**Title:** Tentative   
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou**  
Word Count:** 780  
**Warning/s: **Just the boy love, no direct spoilers. Though it does kind of continue a long drabble arc with these two in it. --;;  
**Summary: **Continuation of drabble #122 (Hung-over)- Ganjyu and Hanatarou keep moving forward.  
**Dedication:** Miuu from thanks so much for your awesome e-mail!  
**A/N:** Dumb? Oh, I think so.

* * *

He's always gentle with Hanatarou because every time they kiss, the little guy is shaking in his arms somehow, feeling small and overwhelmed by everything around him. It makes Ganjyu treat him extra delicately, petting his cheek or his hair, touching his throat and holding him a little bit tighter.

They're still new to all of this after all, and there's something awkward and pure about the way they touch each other at this stage of their relationship because right now they're discovering the depth of their sentiment as well as the fact that it wasn't all a dream and that it's really okay to kiss like this, with Hanatarou curled up in Ganjyu's lap, shaking and making little noises in the back of his throat while Ganjyu holds him steady and gently brushes the little shinigami's cheek with his fingertips because he doesn't trust himself to stay gentle if he tries to touch more of the other boy at this point.

Their eyes are shut tight and their kisses are short and open-mouthed, but nothing deeper than that yet because they're still exploring and discovering one another physically.

Both of them are a little scared and a little embarrassed, tentative and unsure.

When they break for air the two of them both have cheeks stained pink, and Hanatarou always looks up at Ganjyu through shy lashes as he pants quietly against the larger man's chest. "I-is this okay?" Yamada whispers breathlessly, sounding small and uncertain as he fists the folds of Ganjyu's shirt unconsciously in his hands.

Ganjyu pets his hair and assures him it is, rests his chin on top of the shinigami's head and rubs slow circles on Hanatarou's back with his hand as he catches his own breath. It's all a little overwhelming, even at such an early stage, and Ganjyu thinks that when things get to the next level, they might both explode or something.

It makes him chuckle to himself a little and move to press another kiss to Hanatarou's forehead.

Hanatarou blinks up at him, looking a little confused at his sudden amusement, but he smiles back shyly when Ganjyu kisses him. "What's funny?" he asks after a moment, looking flushed and innocent and lovely in the other man's lap.

"'s nothing," Ganjyu assures him with a little smile. "We got plenty of time to see if it gets to that…" he soothes, not wanting to make the naturally jittery shinigami nervous with prospects of more forceful caresses so soon into things.

"T-that?" Hanatarou is really perplexed now, though some of the worry has left his eyes because Ganjyu seems fine despite his sudden attack of cryptic speech.

"Don't worry 'bout it," Ganjyu murmurs again, splaying his fingers out on the side of Hanatarou's throat and caressing, feather-light against the skin there. "Something to think about later…there's plenty of time…"

"Aa… plenty of…" Hanatarou's eyes go wide. "Ganjyu!"

Ganjyu blinks back at the shinigami's sudden shift in mood. "Eh?"

And then Hanatarou is scrambling off of Ganjyu's lap and back onto his own two feet rather frantically. "Your lunch break is over!" he informs the larger man quickly. "Don't you have a test this afternoon?"

Ganjyu blinks at Hanatarou dumbly for a moment.

"Shit."

"Hurry!"

And then Ganjyu is on his feet too, and his bento is still uneaten on the table because he decided to spend the whole hour kissing Yamada in the fourth division shinigami's room instead of eating and studying some more like he'd planned.

He's late already and probably really in trouble and Hanatarou looks guiltily back at him as he grabs his things to go. "I'm sorry!" Hanatarou apologizes reflexively, worrying his hands together.

And even though he's late, Ganjyu's conscience can't have that expression be the last thing he sees before going into his exam, so he pauses halfway out the door and murmurs, "idiot," before yanking Hanatarou towards him so he can kiss the little shinigami one last time before he leaves. It's not as gentle as their previous times because he's in a rush to go, and it makes him clumsy and forceful and hurried.

It also strips all the awkward hesitance right out of him.

When he pulls back, Hanatarou's eyes are huge and he stares back at Ganjyu with flushed red cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, breathing heavily and looking absolutely weak in the knees.

Ganjyu groans painfully when he sees that and throws himself forcibly out of the door at a run, promising that when he gets back later tonight, he'll try that again.

Because now, Ganjyu thinks that maybe Hanatarou doesn't have to be kissed so gently all the time after all.

**END**


	126. Real Friendship

**126.**

**Title:** Real Friendship  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Urahara, Yoruichi**  
Word Count:** 303  
**Warning/s: **vague spoilers for the Urahara/Yoruichi backstory portion of the Soul Society Arc.  
**Summary: **Urahara asks for a favor.  
**Dedication:** Beck- who seems to be oft surrounded by infuriating men herself. O.o  
**A/N:** I dunno, I just felt like I hadn't written these two in a long while. So I just did. And it just came out with Urahara being infuriating in that way he is, and it just kind of ran from there. I didn't really think about it lots.

* * *

"I need your help." 

They weren't words she'd ever expected to hear from him, not the infuriatingly confident guy who always smiled at her mysteriously from under long bangs, cheerful and friendly and one of the most deadly men she'd ever met in her life.

She doesn't know what to say when she hears him ask for her help, because the words mean only one thing and a million other things at the same time, and it feels like all the pressure is on her after he's gotten it off his chest, standing there with that mysterious smile on his face and waiting for her answer like he just asked her the time of day and not for something that may or may not be life-altering.

She looks back at him and feels like the entire universe is shifting with just the power of that smile between them. She knows just with a look that when he asks her for her help like he just did, it means something enormous.

They stand there for a moment as she studies him, he smiling at her through those unruly blonde bangs and looking happily enigmatic as he awaits her response.

Yoruichi wants to punch a couple of those shiny white teeth right out of that grinning mouth.

Later, after Urahara has to smile that smile of his and try to look mysterious while sporting a swollen black eye, she finally says, "What do you need?"

When he tells her, she eventually, inevitably agrees.

She can't _not_, and he knew it all along, the sneak.

So she grits her teeth and prepares to help him with his newest crazy scheme, because he's her friend and he really does need her.

But all the same, it makes her wish she'd given the bastard _two_ black eyes first.

**END**


	127. Illness

**127.**

**Title:** Illness   
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxIzuru undertones, but nothing really obvious about it.**  
Word Count:** 337  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary: **Kira works hard.  
**Dedication:** Christine- who's sort of like Kira sometimes, I think. --;;  
**A/N:** Wow, they're starting to come easier now that the TV's off. Who knew? Anyway, I think I'll write one about nosebleeds next cuz guess what? My allergies have decided to kick in after about a week of being back and voila… dry weather means MY NOSE EXPLODED AND THERE'S BLOOD EVERYWHERE. Yay.

* * *

Everyone talks about how brave he is, how the three of them all are. They talk about how Hinamori's still trying so much, how Hisagi's being strong and Kira's always working hard.

Kira doesn't think that they understand, not really. The three of them, they aren't doing it because they're brave, he thinks. They're doing it because it's all they can do. They keep busy and do their jobs while secretly hoping that it was all a lie and that their captains will come home to them one day soon.

They keep working so that when their captains do return, everything will be ready for them. Kira thinks that if everyone knew, they'd think the three of them were sick instead of brave, especially after everything that happened with their missing leaders.

He would agree with them.

He thinks he might be a little bit ill, thinks he has to be, because every day after he finishes all his brave, hard work, he comes back to Ichimaru Gin's old room. He lights a candle and looks around and cleans up a little, because if his captain comes back, he doesn't want it to be too dusty in here to sleep.

Everyday after he's worked hard and put on his bravest face, he still thinks about Ichimaru-taichou.

If anyone else knew, they would think he was a little sick, and he would agree with them.

But he can't help it, and when he crawls into Gin's familiar bed and covers himself with familiar blankets that still smell of his captain, and of blood and sex and other familiar things, he feels whole again.

He forgets his hard work and lets go of that exhausting brave front when he's curled up in Ichimaru Gin's bed, hoping that maybe tomorrow, his captain will return and everything will be like it was before.

It's the only way he can fall asleep anymore, and as he drifts off each night, he thinks to himself that he's a little bit sick for it.

**END**


	128. Anemic

**128.**

**Title:** Anemic   
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **RenjixByakuya**  
Word Count:** 629  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just…blood.  
**Summary: **Renji has seasonal allergies.  
**Dedication:** My brother, who also has a daily nosebleed, it seems. --;;  
**A/N:** MY ALLERGIES HAVE FINALLY CAUGHT UP WITH ME AFTER A WEEK OF BEING HOME. I'm gushing blood. I'll have to eat like, ten steaks to make up for the loss of iron, I mean it. --;; And it's not cuz I'm a pervert, SHUT UP. If that myth were true I'd need a transfusion every three hours.

* * *

For the past few days, Abarai Renji has been forced to walk around with a little white trail of Kleenex that went down from inside his nostril to the top of his lip. And while it's not really glaringly obvious from a long distance, he still finds it rather mortifying because it's unquestionably noticeable if one takes a second look. 

People have smirked as he walks by, and Byakuya, who has been oddly disgusted with him lately, has tried to ignore the indignity of it all as best he can.

It happened during one of his rare, unobstructed-nostril, blood-free moments that Renji cornered the other man in his office and asked him why he seemed so put out with his vice-captain's nosebleeds. Byakuya had looked at him for a moment and then responded with a very curt, "It's as if your nose has been constantly bleeding for the past week, Renji. If you don't want to develop anemia I would suggest that you behave like less of a pervert."

Renji had only been able to stare back at his captain incredulously. "Um…excuse me, sir?"

The sixth division captain sniffed. "You heard me."

And Renji still hadn't been able to believe it. "You know that's a _myth_ right?" the vice-captain had inquired carefully. "Taichou…my nose only bleeds 'cuz of my seasonal allergies. I mean it. It's too damn dry here!"

Byakuya frowned. "I saw your nose erupt when the female officers went to attend the summer festival in their yukata the other day."

Renji still hadn't been able to believe it. "Is _that_ what this is about? You're _jealous_ 'cuz you think my nosebleeds are happenin' because of some pervy thoughts or something?"

Byakuya merely arched an eyebrow in response before turning imperiously back to his paperwork, letting Abarai know by his reaction that the vice-captain had hit the nail on the head.

"I don't believe this!" And he still doesn't, to tell the truth. If he wasn't so shocked at the time, he thinks that he might've been amused by the great Kuchiki-taichou's sudden display of deeply misled naiveté.

As it is, he doesn't particularly like it when his lover is displeased with him, and in his most cajoling tone, he'd begun to reassure Byakuya that the sole culprit to his chronic nosebleeds were his seasonal allergies. "Taichou… I mean it, it's just my damn allergies. C'mon, I've been bleeding everyday for like, the whole day, haven't I? Even_ I_ can't have pervy thoughts _that_ often and still do my job, right?" he'd asked, appealing to Byakuya's sense of rationale. "That wouldn't make sense!"

Byakuya eyed him from his paperwork. "So you're saying that what I saw the other day was a fluke?"

Renji, having sensed that he was getting somewhere, had stepped around his captain's desk to rest his hands reassuringly on the other man's shoulders. "Complete fluke. Weird timing, I mean it."

"You swear?"

Nodding, Renji had proclaimed, "Swear it."

"…all right then."

The redhead, sighing with relief, had moved to kiss Byakuya then, and when the sixth division captain had tilted his head upwards invitingly, Renji knew that all was truly forgiven.

Their kisses had deepened eventually, and work was, in one of Byakuya's rare moments of capitulation to Renji's will, temporarily forgotten. Renji had smiled into his lover's lips as a sense of relieved longing washed over him, making him realize that over the past few days, Byakuya had been irate with him and as a result, he'd missed the familiar feel of the other man's lips in that time.

However, just as things had been getting interesting, Byakuya removed his top.

Renji, currently sentenced to a week of sleeping alone, will never forgive his nose for choosing that exact moment to explode on him.

**END**


	129. The Third Victim

**129.**

**Title:** A Third Victim  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Soi Fong**  
Word Count:** 470  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers in this particular fic, just a lot of random OOCness.  
**Summary: **Continuation to drabble #122 (The Second Round)- Kenpachi wants to fight ninjas.  
**Dedication:** Kelly- HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANGRY CHINESE GIRL THAT COSPLAYS SOI FONG!  
**A/N:** Ummmm, I don't know. I just thought it would be funny if we got the two most violent captains in seireitei to scare the shit out some people.

* * *

Soi Fong was probably an even more inhospitable captain than Kenpachi when it came to social literacy, but if the skinny little shrimp could actually do him some harm, he figured that would only make the whole thing _that_ much better in the long run anyway.

"You want to _what?_" the second division captain asked incredulously, arching one dangerous brow that dared Zaraki to try and pull one over her.

Except he was being completely genuine. "Ninjas! The second division's pretty much the closest outta everyone we got here, right? C'mon… I wanna fight some ninjas!"

She blinked at him, feeling the bloodthirsty reiatsu rolling off him in excited waves.

He was serious.

He was _crazy._

"My division is not full of _ninjas_," she spat at him irately, insulted at the insinuation. "Special operations forces and _ninjas_ aren't synonymous. We are far superior to those human imitations of assassins."

Zaraki frowned. "Aw, c'mon. Just give your boys some masks. And some fishnet or somethin'. It'll be _awesome_."

She was already beginning to lose what precious patience she had. Her eye twitched. "_Awesome_?"

Kenpachi grinned manically. "_Awesome._"

If she didn't think he'd like it, she probably would have tried to rip his throat out at that moment. As it was, she simply glared up at him threateningly. "I refuse to play your sick little hypothetical battle scenario, Zaraki. Unlike your division, mine has more important things to do than indulge in childish role-play games."

He reached into the sleeve of his top.

She tensed and assumed a fighting pose.

He held up what appeared to be a smallish book with cartoonish letters printed on the front. "Relax, wouldja? Geez. Look. It's all in here. The _ninjas_." He tossed her the object.

She caught it and turned it around in her hands, staring disbelievingly. "You have a cartoon picture book? From the mortal world?"

"'S Kurosaki's," Kenpachi explained impatiently. "But ya gotta _read _it."

Soi Fong looked at him dubiously. "I have no interest in such human realm contraband garbage."

Kenpachi's spiritual energy increased unintentionally and he scowled at her. "I'm tellin' ya. _Just read it._"

She scowled at him. "What if I don't…"

"_Read it_."

Eyeing him in annoyance, she decided that he wouldn't leave her alone until she'd humored him, psychotic nuisance that he was. "Fine."

She flipped open the first page.

A few hours later and the second division received urgent orders from their captain to don half-face masks and fishnet hosiery before reporting to the wilderness simulation training grounds immediately.

Nervous, confused, and frightened, the elite special operation forces of seireitei were made to run around in the trees with their backs bent and their arms trailing out straight behind them for several long, traumatizing hours.

Zaraki Kenpachi stalked them from the ground.

Soi Fong hunted from above.

**END  
**


	130. Grunt Work

**  
130.**

**Title:** Grunt Work  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yamamoto **  
Word Count:** 484  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers.  
**Summary: **Yamamoto's morning routine.  
**Dedication:** Everyone at for their continued support- Wow, 150! That makes my ego like, HUGE. I hope I can keep entertaining you guys a little bit.  
**A/N: **Um… I'm not sure. I think I just wanted to kill some koi.

* * *

Yamamoto Genryuusai sighed wearily and settled into his chair for the day, lighting his pipe as he waited for his assistant to arrive and inform him of the pressing matters of the day.

"Yamamoto-soutaichou, sir!" The young man burst into the room and saluted smartly, balancing a handful of scrolls in his arms.

"Ah, yes, good morning Sousuke," the first division captain greeted, puffing comfortably on his tobacco. "Please proceed."

"Yes sir! First order of business, sir… the Seireitei Aesthetics Committee has put in a request form for more koi to be placed into the central garden pond, sir…"

Yamamoto blinked. "I thought there were already koi in the pond."

"Um… there _were_, sir."

"Were?"

"Two days ago Zaraki Kenpachi's eleventh division underwent what their captain is calling 'wilderness survival' training, sir."

Yamamoto's eye twitched.

"And… it seems that one stipulation of the training was to catch and prepare their own food, sir. All the koi in the pond were…um…speared and eaten, sir. As were several pet birds and lizards in private ownership around the court."

The ancient shinigami blew an irritated cloud of smoke through his nostrils. "I see." After a moment, he sighed resignedly. "Very well then, approve the request."

"Yessir."

"Next order of business?"

"Um… we have a certain petition regarding the presence of a domesticated demi-hollow in seireitei, sir."

"_What_?"

"Um… it seems that a demi-hollow is being kept in the eleventh division headquarters by Kusajika-fukutaichou. Um… being of an…equestrian nature it seems…"

Yamamoto twitched. "A…pony?"

"Ah…yessir."

"And it's been causing problems?" the first division captain questioned, knowing the answer already. There was always _something_ when it came to the eleventh division, it seemed.

"Well… I suppose it could be construed that way, yes."

"And the petition is to kill the animal before it can do serious harm?"

"Er, so many words."

The first division captain arched a brow. "In so many words?"

"It's actually a petition of mercy, sir. The demi-hollow has been begging for death for quite some time, it seems. Sympathizers are requesting that the beast be euthanized to um, put it out of its misery, sir."

Yamamoto supposed that made sense, given the circumstances. "Approve the petition."

"Yessir."

"Next?"

"Ah, last on the list for the morning… it seems we've gotten preliminary intelligence reports that a gang of Hollows has taken up residence in the southernmost swamp region of Soul Society, sir. The reports are tentative, but should be confirmed and dealt with as soon as possible given the nature of the problem."

"That is troubling news isn't it?"

"Yessir."

A beat.

"The southern swamps, huh?"

"Yessir."

"The ones with the tar pits?"

"Um, those would be the ones, sir."

Yamamoto chuckled to himself and leaned back, puffing merrily on his pipe. "Perfect. Send the eleventh division to investigate."

"Ah…yessir."

Yamamoto smiled wryly to himself. Despite popular belief, he did keep them around for a _reason_.

**END**


	131. The Fourth Wall

**  
131.**

**Title:** The Fourth Wall  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Soi Fong, Kenpachi, Ichigo**  
Word Count:** 612  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just silliness.  
**Summary: **Continuation of drabble #129 (The Third Victim)- The only possible solution to Zaraki and Soi Fong's problem.  
**Dedication:** Everyone at for their continued support- Wow, 150! That makes my ego like, HUGE. I hope I can keep entertaining you guys a little bit.  
**A/N: **Seriously, I wrote this entirely for the last line. I'm… sad like that. ;;

* * *

It was about noontime that the captains of the second and eleventh divisions paid a visit to temporary fifth division captain Kurosaki Ichigo.

He knew he should've taken an early lunch.

But, he supposed, it was too late now.

So instead, he sighed and looked up at his visitors from his chair and hoped that maybe it was actual business they were here to see him for. "Um…yes?"

His hopes were quickly and thoroughly dashed with Soi Fong held out his Naruto volume fourteen.

He stared at it.

She continued to hold it out.

When he failed to react, she shook it, like that would fix whatever it was that was broken with him.

He continued to stare at it. Except now it was wiggling.

She scowled, growing impatient. "I demand the next one."

His worst fear was confirmed. Deflating, the temporary captain sighed in defeat. "Geez. He got you too?"

Soi Fong scowled at him some more.

Ichigo concluded that it was just her default face.

"He did not "get me," as you so crudely put it. I am simply intrigued. That's all," she responded, a glint in her eye that said it would be dangerous for Ichigo to contest her claim.

He did anyway.

"Same thing, ain't it?" the current fifth division leader asked, shrugging nonchalantly. "You like it now."

"I don't like it," she denied quickly, causing both other captains to look at her. "I… just… I can't seem to stop reading it, even if my race seems to be insultingly represented solely by men in ugly green jump suits," she explained sullenly. "There are dangerously addictive properties in this cartoon book. Like it's…charmed."

Ichigo looked at her oddly. "Um…okay."

She made a fist and shook it at him. "Don't trivialize this! I need to know what happens next, and quickly. Now give me the next one."

Kenpachi gave a sudden start. "Oi… isn't the one girl with the cute lil buns on the side of her head also…"

Soi Fong glared at him.

He shrugged. "Just sayin'."

She turned back to Kurosaki. "Ignore him and give me the next volume."

Ichigo sighed. "I know this might be a little bit hard for you two to understand, but that one you're holdin' there? That's the last one I brought with me."

She blinked at him, still holding out his manga in front of him and waiting for it to be changed out for a new one.

Kurosaki, miraculously, kept from banging his head against his desk. Instead, he took a deep, patient breath, and said, "Look you guys, I didn't bring any more with me, all right? That's it. This is what I've got."

It took a moment, but Soi Fong eventually let her hand fall.

"So… you expect us to just let it…end there?" she asked, voice deadly quiet.

Ichigo shrugged. "For now. I mean… I'm scheduled to go home for a break in a few weeks, so you'd have to wait 'til then, I guess."

He eyed them, and decided that neither of them really looked like they liked that idea.

"Just… have some patience wouldya? It'll only be a few weeks. I mean, the only other thing you two could do would be to actually go and _buy_ the next volumes yourselves and _that's _impossible…"

The two captains turned to look at each other.

Two seconds later, they were gone.

Ichigo felt the wind caused by their departure as it ripped violently through the air around the room, scattering several papers from his desk and onto the floor.

He continued to sit in his office for a moment, blinking in silence.

And then…

"…oh fuck me."

**END**


	132. Winning the Fans Over

**  
132.**

**Title:** Winning the Fans Over  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika**  
Word Count:** 948 (dude way too long and schmoopy)  
**Warning/s: **Slight spoilers for the Soul Society Arc. And sugar-fluff warning, I'm sorry. So sorry.   
**Summary: **Ayasekawa just has a way of winning people over.   
**Dedication:** Jenkat and antiparallel, because I woke up to a GREAT DAY today and it's all their doing.  
**A/N: **I blame yaoidaily's posting of "Calorie" by Sakuragi Yuya for the sticky sweetness here. There's just SOMETHING about the way she draws her guys, and the little GESTURES that are OMG SO CUTE that she does when she positions them that makes me drool all over my keyboard (like that one where the uke bops tucks his head right under the seme's chin and laughs at him? So cute I nearly died. I'm not joking. I paused and stared at it for like, fifteen minutes and COULDN'T LOOK AWAY). And now I'm stuck with that adorableness in my head and want to copy it. Harder to emulate with words, really, so I think I made a big mess of this, but it's not my fault, the cute is EATING MY BRAIN. I'm sorry to everyone subjected to my whims like this. But I figure everyone that can take it is used to it by now, right? Right.

* * *

The women of seireitei can't deny how good-looking ninth division vice-captain Hisagi Shuuhei is, but there has always been a certain seriousness to him that makes him seem unapproachable, a cool aloofness that makes them keep their distance though they do long to speak to the handsome shinigami.

But he's always been all professionalism, first and foremost dedicated to the principles of Soul Society and his role as a death god. They think he might be like he is because of his former captain, as captains tend to very strongly affect their vice-captains in numerous ways. Tousen Kaname was serious, honorable, and seemingly flawless in his role of ninth division captain, and for the years before his treachery was revealed, he was Shuuhei's teacher and role model in the Gotei-13.

Thus Hisagi has always been seen as untouchable because of his demeanor, a beautiful person to look at but one who is very difficult to communicate with because he seems on levels higher than everyone else, cool and calm and serious and always, always flawless in bearing and achievement in his duties.

As it is, Hisagi Shuuhei's unofficial fan club has spent the years merely admiring him from afar, the general consensus being that Hisagi is off-limits. This is to avoid first, annoying him, and second, the inevitable war between the ranks that would be caused by the battle for his affections. They believe that it's simply best to let Shuuhei remain untouchable.

Ayasekawa, it seems, never got the memo.

When the women hear that it's Ayasekawa Yumichika who has suddenly landed their male idol, they desperately want to dislike him.

Except that suddenly, much to the disbelief of the court's female population, they discover that Hisagi Shuuhei isn't as untouchable as the air he gives off after all.

It's on one fine spring day that the discovery is made, the women staring at the two lovers as they meet in the quad like they do every day come lunchtime, Ayasekawa taking Hisagi's hand in his and pulling the vice-captain in some direction or another, the shorter shinigami excited and talking loudly as he does.

Everyone expects the Shuuhei they have come to know and idolize to shake the other man's hand away and state something about how inappropriate such behavior is when on duty and in public.

They marvel when instead, bemused, Shuuhei allows Yumichika to lead him wherever it is he wants to take him. As if that isn't enough to cause a stir, as Shuuhei trails after the other man, the women are treated to a rare and beautiful sight. It is the very one that leads them to the discovery that their prince is indeed, just as human (for lack of better term) as they are.

They see Hisagi smile.

And it's not just any smile. It's genuine and smitten and exasperated and amused and perfect because Shuuhei tilts his head a little to the side and quirks his lips upwards, and the expression in his normally serious eyes is so warm and gentle and content that all the ladies watching feel their hearts flutter a little bit, curious as to what it must be like to have a man like Hisagi Shuuhei smile at you just like that.

They all want to hate Ayasekawa a little bit because he's the only one that knows.

But then, Yumichika turns around and they're surprised for the second time in so many minutes.

Ayasekawa smiles back.

And it's a million times different from Hisagi's expression of fond bemusement, but just as potent. It's brilliant and enthusiastic and absolutely bursting with energetic, joyful love, Yumichika's eyes large and bright as he looks up at his lover with a hundred thousand watts of sweet adoration.

And as much as they may not want to be, the spectators find themselves equally as enthralled with Ayasekawa's smile as they are with Hisagi's, the two men both beautiful even with such vastly different ways of conveying the same love.

Needless to say, it makes it very difficult for the members of Hisagi's unofficial fan club to resent Ayasekawa for winning Shuuhei from them. In fact, some of the men in the audience even have to admit that yes, they'd hit that themselves, given the chance.

It's impossible to resent Ayasekawa at all, as much as they want to.

And when Hisagi puts his hand on the side of Ayasekawa's throat and touches their foreheads together, murmuring something that might be gentle chastisement for his lover's inappropriate volume, the crowd feels its knees go a little weak.

They wonder what it would be like to have Hisagi touch them like that, and still, they want to resent Yumichika a little for being the only one who knows.

But then Ayasekawa touches Hisagi's cheek with his fingertips and smiles again, wrinkling his nose cutely as he murmurs something inaudible to the viewers but obviously playful, warding off Shuuhei's soft scolding. Then he pecks the taller man on the lips and they resume their walk together.

When the spectators realize that a part of them is also wondering what it's like to be on the receiving end of _that_, they figure it's futile to resent Yumichika even just a tiny bit.

In fact, as much as they might not want to, they think they're beginning to like him.

And as they witness their formerly aloof idol smirk and steal a surprise kiss from Ayasekawa, they feel like they're beginning to like something else as well.

They never thought it would happen, but that kiss is what tips them all over the edge.

The unofficial Hisagi Shuuhei fan club is suddenly full of yaoi fans.

**END**


	133. Uncertain

**  
133.**

**Title:** Uncertain   
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Byakuya, light IchigoxRukia**  
Word Count:** 275  
**Warning/s: **Well, I guess this would be a future fic, so um, at least be caught up through the Soul Society arc for it to make sense? Yes.  
**Summary: **Rukia walks towards an uncertain future.  
**Dedication:** Jen- none of us know what's up ahead for us, but that's half the fun of living, isn't it?  
**A/N: **Not my best technically, but I have the emotions as I write this one to back it up, so no apologies this time. ;P

* * *

"Are you certain that you want to do this?"

She can tell by his tone of voice that he doesn't want her to go, that he still disapproves of this though it's beyond his power to stop her now.

He's her overprotective older brother, after all, and he doesn't like the odds because they're stacked against her and Ichigo both. They all know it.

But still, she thinks that he shouldn't worry so much. It's not good for his health.

"You'll come visit often, nii-sama?" she asks quietly as they watch a gateway being prepared for her departure.

"No," he tells her, and she knows it's the truth. "I'll be busy."

"You'll come once in a while, then?"

He looks away. "Perhaps."

She smiles and stands on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek as the doors to the mortal world open before her.

He looks embarrassed and resentful all at the same time, and absently, he raises a hand to rub his cheek. "Are you…"

"Yes, nii-sama."

"And he's…"

"Waiting for me on the other side."

Byakuya looks as if he's on the brink of physically restraining her, of throwing her over his shoulder and locking her in her room for the rest of eternity. Instead he says, "You… if you ever need…"

"I know. I'm going now," she tells him quietly, and they can both hear the fear and uncertainty in her voice.

They can hear the excitement too.

"Goodbye, nii-sama."

"…goodbye."

She smiles at him and walks through the gate.

He watches her go.

The doorway closes.

"Have… a nice life, Rukia."

And despite the odds, part of him really thinks she will.

**END**


	134. Trade Ya

**134.**

**Title:** Trade Ya…  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake**  
Word Count:** 100 (BOO-YAH)  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary: **Kyouraku wants to exchange tokens. Ukitake dissuades him.  
**Dedication:** Mel- did my best to make a pure drabble, because I REMEMBER THE DEAL. XD  
**A/N: **Yeah, I kind of ripped off what I was talking about with the swords in my long ShunxUki fic, "Springtime of Life," but it doesn't count as plagiarism if I do it to myself, right? RIGHT. Anyway, this shortie came about 'cuz I have troubles keeping things short. So I made a deal with Mel that said I'd try to write a pure drabble and if I did, she'd write me 12 in return. AWESOME OR WHAT? I don't know if I succeeded in writing something GOOD here, but um… I tried for a pure, and this is what I got. Meh.

* * *

One day, Kyouraku asked Ukitake what would happen if they traded one sword each, since they both had two.

Ukitake instantly said it was impossible, because a zanpakutou is an extension of one's own soul and thus can't be separated from its owner and continue to exist.

Shunsui smiled and said it was fine then, because Jyuushirou was an extension of his soul too.

Then Ukitake told him it would take much longer to unlock their swords if each of them had two names to call out.

Shunsui sighed at Ukitake's pragmatism, and that was the end of that idea.

**END**


	135. The Ex

**  
135.**

**Title:** The Ex   
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika**  
Word Count:** 755  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but silliness.  
**Summary: **Continuation of Drabble #110 (Hook, Line, and Sinker)- Yumi's old boyfriend wants him back.   
**Dedication:** jenkat again, since her fanart totally did this to me. XD and pausedsilence while we're at it, as thanks for her great fanart too!  
**A/N: **Weiiird idea that kind of sprung up on me when looking at jenkat's ShuuxYumi fanart again. XD The expression on Shuuhei's face is just… yum, and it just kind of makes you marvel at how hot that man is. All it takes is a look at him, I swear.

* * *

He'd heard Yumi was going to be back in the neighborhood- gossip in their small town tended to spread quickly through the ranks and had been confirmed a few days before by news that Yumichika's mother had been buying more groceries than what was normal for just her and her husband.

This was the chance he'd been waiting for. Yumi had been his first love. They'd gone to academy together, and while he'd decided early on that being a shinigami wasn't what he wanted, Yumichika had, surprisingly, broken up with him and gone on alone, making it into the Gotei-13 and working his way up the ranks of his division to an impressive fifth chair.

But after dropping out, Arisugawa Yasuhiro hadn't been sitting around his house twiddling his thumbs while waiting for Yumi to return. He'd taken over his father's trade business in rukongai and with a surprising degree of flair and business acumen, had accumulated a large amount of wealth and prestige in their hometown.

And with that backing him, he'd gotten handsomer, smarter, and stronger with time, his successes in commerce giving him the confidence to attempt to work out some sort of deal with the Ayasekawas, asking Yumi's parents to bring him back from his dangerous occupation in the Gotei-13 to allow him to live with Arisugawa on his impressive estate.

Ayasekawa's father however, was a heathen, and was not above chasing a very civil Yasuhiro off of his property with a weapon, telling him to stop coming back and leave Yumi be.

But he wasn't going to talk to Yumi's father today, thankfully. Because he'd heard Yumi was back.

Elaborate preparations for his visit were undertaken in the Arisugawa home this morning, and Yasuhiro approached Ayasekawa's house in his best clothes, his hair stylishly quaffed and his face shining, the man who had been unofficially named most eligible bachelor in the village at his best appearances in order to reunite with his one true love.

His goal was to win Yumichika back today. His parents and sister had kept telling him for years now to give it up, to move on, but they didn't understand. He was a different sort of man than he was back in his academy days. He didn't give up anymore. He was a winner now, and he was determined to bring Yumi back home with him today. It was as simple as that.

Of course he'd heard the rumors that Yumi had been involved as of late with a vice-captain shinigami of some sort, but Yasuhiro was completely convinced that some military dog with a boring name like Hisagi had no chance of being any competition to a suave, refined (and wealthy) businessman like himself. And on top of all that, there was simply no way that Yumi's new shinigami boyfriend could be more handsome than him, if he recalled all the losers he'd come across at academy correctly. Shinigami were for the most part, boring and strict and had no flair or stunning good looks. As far as Yasuhiro was concerned, they had nothing to offer someone as brilliantly beautiful as Ayasekawa Yumichika.

Not like he did.

He figured that Yumi would take one good look at the new-and-improved him and ditch his boring vice-captain in the time it would take for him to jump into Yasuhiro's arms, smiling that stunning smile of his.

Today, after years of separation, Yasuhiro was going to win his true love back.

Really, there would be no competition.

Smiling to himself, Arisugawa turned at the corner of the lane towards the Ayasekawa property and promptly saw…

…Hisagi Shuuhei.

The shinigami was sitting on the front porch of the Ayasekawas' home, shirtless and sweating from what was obviously an intense morning workout, the vice-captain meditating serenely to himself in the early sunlight, legs crossed and chest heaving.

And then Hisagi gave a little toss of his hair to get it out of his eyes, sending several droplets of sweat into the air that caught the morning light, causing the area around him to sparkle.

One deep breath later and the shinigami, apparently finishing his cool-down, stood and grabbed a towel that had been laid out on the railing before beginning to dry himself off.

Feeling as if he were being watched, Shuuhei looked up mid-dry and caught Arisugawa's eyes as the other man stared openly at him from the road.

And in that moment, Yasuhiro knew.

There was really no competition at all.

He turned around and went home.

**END**


	136. Strangers With Candy

**  
136.**

**Title:** Strangers With Candy  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru**  
Word Count:** 607  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just OOCness?  
**Summary: **Kenpachi worries about the future.   
**Dedication:** My brother and his friend, who went out at eleven something at night tonight to buy me chocolate. XD  
**A/N: **Um, I don't know… I think this kind of sprang into my head after watching "Mind of Mencia" on Comedy Central and hearing him say, "WHAT! MY DAUGHTER IS PREGNANT!" during the stand-up part just got me to thinking about weird things. O.o Just… bear with me, the TV is warping my mind, I mean it.

* * *

He thinks it's because he overheard crazy Kurotsuchi mumbling to himself one day about how he had to kill numerous slack-jawed shinigami for looking at Nemu the wrong way, the twelfth division captain growling that she had better things to attend to than drooling adolescent boys.

That's when it all started, really. Everything is that idiot clown's fault and Kenpachi resents him all the more for it because now he gets a funny feeling of assassination in his chest when he sees any guy even _look_ at Yachiru, which is dangerous really, considering how much attention she calls to herself.

To be clear, the assassination part doesn't bug him so much for the violence as for the method- it's just that he'd much prefer to rip these guys apart in one-on-one battle for no other reason than to fight them and not because they're dirty rotten bastard perverts.

So his suddenly wanting to take them out when they're not looking in a dark alley isn't Zaraki's usual MO, and he doesn't think he likes that he feels this way all of a sudden.

It's all Kurotsuchi's fault. Kenpachi had never even thought about these things _ever_ until that stupid bastard had brought it up.

And now everyone thinks he's gone on the warpath somehow, just because he broke the arm of some guy that was trying to give Yachiru candy.

They should be blaming Mayuri! He's the one that put all of these crazy ideas in Kenpachi's head in the _first_ place.

And c'mon, some guy randomly giving a cute little girl candy in seireitei has _got _to mean he's some sort of sick freak.

But the Court won't have any of it. And while that doesn't matter because those idiots can fuck off, the thing that _does_ matter is the fact that _Yachiru_ won't have any of it _either_.

She's mad at Kenpachi now because no one wants to give her candy anymore.

It makes him feel sort of guilty.

But more importantly, it makes him wonder who was giving her candy _before_.

And what their names, ranks, and division numbers are.

But he doesn't pursue that thought because that would probably take all day to hunt those disgusting perverts down, and Yachiru's _mad _at him so he probably has to fix that first anyway.

So he does the logical thing and brings her lots and lots of candy.

She's still at an age where that's all he really needs to do to earn her forgiveness, and before long her little face is covered in chocolate and she's all smiles again as he stands by and tells her that she shouldn't take candy from anyone else anymore because he can get her as much as she wants.

She looks at him oddly for a second before telling him, matter-of-factly, that he just can't get her the super special giant bubblegum rope that Kusunoki-chan from the thirteen division can, because he says it's his special secret and only the two of them know about it.

Kenpachi makes a mental note to kill some idiot named Kusunoki in Ukitake's division.

And then he tells Yachiru that he can _too_ get her the super special giant bubblegum rope, just watch him.

Later, when he's torturing Kusunoki for "special secret" information (and for being a dirty rotten little-girl stalking pervert with candy), he thinks to himself that he's a little bit afraid to imagine how things will be once Yachiru gets to be Hitsugaya's age if they're already this bad _now_.

From the stuff he's been hearing out of Matsumoto's mouth about it, things just don't look good for him.

**END**


	137. Flair for the Dramatic

**  
137.**

**Title:** Flair for the Dramatic  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake**  
Word Count:** 599  
**Warning/s: **Sort-of spoilers for the Kyouraku and Ukitake part of the Soul Society Arc.  
**Summary: **Shunsui doesn't change much over the years.  
**Dedication:** laliho- dude, write your UkitakexKaien, FUN TIMES THERE. XD  
**A/N: **As I said in my previous post, people complaining about my OTPs to _me_ for some reason, just makes me wanna write 'em more. Sure, I get that you don't like my OTP, but dude, I don't _care_ that you don't so I don't wanna sit through your long rant about how the canon doesn't support what I'm writing. So yeah, just for the record. Aheh.

* * *

He never ever _had_ to do it, but Ukitake suspects Kyouraku of always getting a kick out of sneaking around like he's doing something he shouldn't be.

It's been a habit of his since they were young and at the academy together, late nights when Shunsui would be unable to sleep and Jyuushirou would wake up to the sound of a rock hitting the outside of his window.

He remembers hearing the sound in middle of the night and sighing to himself as he got out of bed to peer out to the ground below, where Shunsui waited with a crooked smile and a handful of pebbles.

"Ne…Jyuu-chan… I couldn't sleep," he would say, and Jyuushirou would smile back exasperatedly and ask him why he didn't just get out of his bed and walk two feet down the dormitory hallway to knock on his door.

Shunsui would frown and chastise him for being so pragmatic, when true love was all about the aggrandizement of the dramatic.

Ukitake still suspects to this very day, that Shunsui said that simply because he wanted to use the word "aggrandizement".

But he'd always humored his classmate on those nights anyway, letting him recite poetry to him from his window or even serenade him until he was chased away by angry dormitory disciplinarians for making a ruckus so late after curfew.

Sometimes Shunsui would ask to be let up, and Ukitake would roll his eyes because that meant he'd have to let down a rope and wait for the big idiot to climb up, where Kyouraku expected to be rewarded for his daunting trials of love with a kiss.

But despite Ukitake's reservations about the whole affair, it seemed that Shunsui always got his coveted reward, as well as Jyuushirou's exasperated laughter as an added bonus, which made every three-story climb well worth the effort.

Those were in their academy days, and Ukitake would like nothing better than to blame his lover's antics on the vibrancy and hotheadedness of his youth, except he can't. Because suddenly, he can hear the distinct clack of rocks against his windowsill tonight, even though it's been nearly a lifetime since they've been young and in the academy.

He shakes his head and with a fond chuckle, rises from his bed and opens the window, where Kyouraku's smiling face greets him, pebbles in hand.

"Ne…Jyuu-chan… I couldn't sleep," he says lazily, letting the leftover rocks fall from his palm and back onto the ground. "Will you spend some time with me until I can?"

Ukitake sighs, but can't help but smile back anyway. "Why didn't you just come in the front door?" he asks, more out of habit than out of any serious curiosity regarding Shunsui's motives.

Shunsui grins and leans forward until their noses touch. "Because love is all about the aggrandizement of the dramatic, silly," he murmurs, before stealing a kiss.

When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling like he's eighteen again, and slyly he asks, "Now, can I come in before someone catches us?"

The thirteenth division captain laughs and moves out of the way to let Shunsui climb in, glad that his bedroom is on the first floor now instead of the third, like it was in the dorm.

Because while nothing about Kyouraku's _personality_ has changed that much over the years, at their age, Ukitake just doesn't trust the other captain's ability to climb up three stories by way of knotted-sheet rope like he used to.

Either way, Shunsui still gets the same reward in the end.

And a couple of bonuses too.

**END**


	138. Point, Counterpoint

**  
138.**

**Title:** Point, Counterpoint  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Hitsugaya, Matsumoto**  
Word Count:** 343  
**Warning/s: **Sort-of spoilery for the Soul Society arc, but in a vague, vague way.  
**Summary: **Hitsugaya and Matsumoto tell it like it is.   
**Dedication:** tomomichi- because I agree, there should be more Hitsugaya and Matsumoto LURVE.  
**A/N: **I dunno, I just wanted to write some sniping and this was the best I could do at one in the morning. Aheh.

* * *

She teases him because his first crush was on his babysitter and that's just _so damn cute_.

He shoots back that Hinamori was never his _babysitter_ but rather, a friend who would visit to play sometimes when he was small.

In retaliation, he reminds her that her first crush was on a slit-eyed psychopath with a fetish for emo-glasses.

She scowls, because that means it's time to play dirty.

And so she reminds him that he should be nice to her because she's been so good to him and never once complained about being the only vice-captain in seireitei who had to do paperwork _and_ explain the birds and the bees to her child-captain.

He tells her that sneaking him pornographic magazines doesn't count as explaining anything and only served to garner him weird, disapproving looks from the assistants who were in charge of cleaning his office.

He reminds her that she nearly suffocated him in her breasts once, and that he's probably the only captain in seireitei who has _that _constant threat of death looming over him in _addition_ to the Hollows.

She tells him he would only be so lucky to die that way. Men _dream_ of dying that way.

He replies that men who dream of dying like that are probably better off being dead anyway.

She tells him that he's very un-cute, which is probably why his babysitter never liked him back.

He says that her crazy childhood friend probably never liked _her_ back because she didn't have the equipment he was looking for down below. Or emo-glasses.

She would have smacked him upside the head for that one, except he's made a crucial misstep in their verbal sparring, and she can't let him get away with it this far into the game.

Smirking, she tells him, "See? I _knew_ those dirty magazines taught you something 'bout the birds and the bees after all, little liar!"

She smiles triumphantly.

He shoots back with, "Yeah. It taught me why some bees prefer other bees."

This time, she does smack him.

**END**


	139. My Reason

**139.**

**Title:** My Reason   
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika**  
Word Count:** 723  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary: **Shuuhei has his reasons for fighting the good fight.  
**Dedication:** aslah- THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!  
**A/N: **This was originally supposed to be a sort of joke-drabble about Yumi fulfilling the role of "ball-and-chain" and keeping Shuuhei from hanging out with his buddies at night, but then it sort of transformed itself into sap. I can't judge how successful it was in either case. O.o Such is the unpredictability of my own writing --

* * *

The guys complain that Shuuhei never has time to hang out anymore, that he's always going straight home after the day is done and doesn't want to go out for a drink or two with the gang like he used to.

Shuuhei frowns at them and tells them they still have their weekly game night _every week _and that if they saw each other's faces more often than that, it could be construed the wrong way. Then he turns around before they can reply, and with a visible bounce in his step, leaves without a backwards glance.

He hears their complaints about ditching them for sex as he leaves, and while it irks him that they think that that's his only motive for going home early, he lets it go because he's pretty sure that the moment they get their own lovers they'll understand that it's not about ditching anyone, and it's definitely not about sex. Well, mostly.

To him, it's the end of a long day and time to go home. He's been working for hours now and he needs a reminder of why he does it, especially after his captain abandoned him and all the things he'd believed in before had been dangerously on the brink of shattering as a result of that betrayal. Before, all Hisagi had needed was discipline and honor and hard work to drive him, Tousen-taichou modeling those virtues and serving as Shuuhei's inspiration, his captain's nobility and dedication pushing the young vice-captain to labor tirelessly in order to make seireitei and the rest of the worlds someplace that was safe for the justice he believed their division stood for.

But to have his inspiration turn around and become everything that he was fighting against had been a crushing blow to Hisagi's self-esteem, and he thinks that things could have become dangerous for him if Yumichika hadn't decided that promptly after defeating Shuuhei, he was also attracted to him.

So before Hisagi could do anything about it, before he could even begin to dwell on the heavy feeling of betrayal in his chest, the ninth division vice-captain suddenly found himself with a whole new reason to continue fighting the good fight.

It's a very different sort of inspiration than his admiration for Kaname had been because Yumi doesn't pretend to be any of those things Shuuhei's former captain appeared to be. In fact, Yumichika is very often loud, selfish, petty, and rude without shame. But all the same, he'd somehow wormed his way into the vice-captain's life those first few weeks after Kaname's departure, and now he served as Hisagi's new motivation, his new reason to fight. And while it's a far cry from the sort of pristine aura of flawlessness Tousen-taichou projected onto the ninth division in the past, Shuuehi thinks that now, because of Yumi, his reasons for fighting are much more personal than they had been before, much more honest to his heart. It makes him want to achieve even more.

Because while discipline and honor and hard work are great ideals for anyone to strive for, Shuuhei knows now that love is the greatest motivator of all.

And so he heads home at the end of each tiring day, knowing that the moment he opens the door, he'll be reminded of why these tiring days are worth every ounce of discipline and honor and hard work he's put into them.

It's much more complicated than how Iba and the others put it, really. His rushing back every evening is for more than just not hanging out with the boys, more than just the reprieve of home after a busy day at the office, and for more than just sex.

Shuuhei does it because he wants a reminder, too.

And that's here at home, his reason for working as hard as he does.

"Welcome home, Shuuhei!"

That's all he really needs right there.

He's ready for tomorrow's fight.

Feeling energized again, Shuuhei steps into the kitchen and greets Yumi with a quiet "I'm home" and a kiss. Yumi smiles back at Shuuhei from over his shoulder as he fixes dinner, and the vice-captain thinks to himself that maybe in the future, Iba and the guys will get to understand this feeling for themselves one day. They'll have their own reasons.

And then they'll know.

**END**


	140. Bad Rap

**140.**

**Title:** Bad Rap  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxIzuru**  
Word Count:** 532  
**Warning/s: **No big spoilers, I think.   
**Summary:** Kira can't find his voice for some reason.   
**Dedication:** jenkat- dude, the fanart, the _fanart_! She drew Gin kinda looking sweet at Kira and my mind exploded.  
**A/N: **Um. So. This doesn't really make a lot of sense. Even to me, it's a little bit weird in the ending, but I know what I'm _implying_ there, I just don't know if it makes any _sense_, you know? Me trying to say what I want to say subtly just doesn't work for me, now does it? O.o

* * *

Everyone always consoles him on having the bad luck to have landed Ichimaru Gin as his captain. They'll pat him on the back or squeeze his shoulder, all the while talking about how sorry they are that a good guy like Kira has to be stuck with someone as strange and frightening as Gin.

Izuru looks back at them sheepishly and can't really say anything, because they don't know his captain and he can't tell them about the real Gin, because truth be told, it's something he wants to keep selfishly to himself. He doesn't think they'd believe him if he told them the truth anyway.

They always talk about scary Ichimaru-taichou like he's a monster and not one of them, and while Izuru concedes that his captain is odd sometimes, he doesn't feel that Gin is a bad man in any way. He's a shinigami, just like the rest of them.

But they just don't understand, and he doesn't try to enlighten them. Because he's selfish, really.

Because he'd rather let them keep thinking that Ichimaru-taichou is a monster and a fiend so that he's the only one who knows how nice Gin's skin tastes and how warm his captain's body is when he touches it. He doesn't want anyone else to know that Ichimaru's fingers are sweet in Kira's mouth and his hair soft against the blonde's shoulder, that he can be kind when he reaches out and stroke's Izuru's cheek and that he sighs in Kira's ear when they're together, soft and soothing to hear.

It's a little bit selfish, he knows, and it's horrible of him as a loyal vice-captain to allow those others who don't know better to continue defaming his captain right in front of him.

He should maybe speak up one day and tell them straight up that Ichimaru-taichou isn't frightening at all.

There are a lot of good things about his captain that Kira knows of, and he should let others know too so they don't continue to speak badly about Gin.

Izuru doesn't believe that his captain is a bad person.

But whenever Kira tries to speak up, it's like his voice suddenly dies inside his throat and all that he can do is _think _those good things about his captain and not say them out loud like he knows he should. It leaves him smiling sheepishly at those people who say they feel sorry for him and before long, all he can do is bow his head and listen to whatever it is they have to say, wondering why he can't just open his mouth and tell them they're wrong.

It might be because he wants to keep those good things about Ichimaru-taichou all to himself because he's selfish, the type of person who wants to hold on tightly to the things that are precious to him and not let anyone else see them.

Or it might be because of something else completely, but all he knows is that when it matters most, he can't do anything but bow his head and smile and let everyone say bad things about Ichimaru Gin even though he hates it.

He wonders why that is.

**END**


	141. Study Buddies

**141.**

**Title:** "Study" Buddies  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou**  
Word Count:** 717  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers in this drabble specifically.  
**Summary:** Continuation to drabble #125 (Tentative)- Despite everything that's happened, Ganjyu and Hanatarou are _still_ studying.   
**Dedication:** My little brother, who's actually studying hard because it's junior year. HAHAHAHA LOSER.  
**A/N: **Yeah, I just felt like I haven't written these two in a while, which puts a hole in my yaoi-writing quota for the month and… nah, just kidding. I don't have quotas, I just wanted more sap. XD But yeah, just some pointless fun from me here while I watch MTV.

* * *

Even with everything that's changed between them recently, it seems that some things just stay exactly the same no matter what.

Ganjyu sighs as he is forced to close his eyes and recite for Hanatarou, the different classes of zanpakutou and the power levels required to access each ascending level.

Hanatarou waits patiently by for the answer, the textbook sitting in the little shinigami's lap, opened to the page with the correct response though he knows all of these things already.

Ganjyu, with some difficulty, manages to rattle off all the right answers, and he opens his eyes just in time to catch that pleased, almost excited look in Hanatarou's eyes. It makes him smile because really, right at this very moment, his efforts are more about earning the right to look at that thrilled expression rather than the perfect test grades.

But he doesn't tell Hanatarou that because then the little guy would blush and look down at his hands and tell Ganjyu that he should concentrate on his studies for the sake of his studies and no other reason, really.

And then Hanatarou would just be too cute and Ganjyu wouldn't be able to think about studies for _any_ sake from that moment on.

So he just sits by and grins when Hanatarou praises him for his good work, wrapping his arms a little tighter around the shinigami nestled snugly in his lap. He rests his chin on Yamada's shoulder and asks what the next question is, craning his neck and acting as though he wants to sneak a peek at the book in his study buddy's hands. Hanatarou falls for the ruse and moves to cover the text from Ganjyu's prying eyes while clucking at the larger man about how he won't learn anything if he cheats. Ganjyu smirks and takes the opening he created for himself, suddenly dipping his head forward and kissing the underside of Hanatarou's jaw with a little laugh.

Hanatarou turns bright pink across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and looking down at the book in his lap, he stammers that Ganjyu shouldn't be distracted when there is so much work left to do in the night and his mid-semester exam is coming up the next morning.

Ganjyu murmurs that he knows and pets Hanatarou's hair to let him know that he agrees that they should study, though he's not sorry for what he did all the same.

Hanatarou pauses then, and Ganjyu can feel a sudden tension in the little runt. He withdraws his hand, instantly ready to really apologize then, because he realizes that Hanatarou is taking a lot of time out of his work schedule to come help him study and that he should take it seriously and appreciate the little guy's efforts.

"Oi…Hanatarou…" he begins, feeling sheepish.

And then Yamada looks up at him, that blush still a pretty streak across his nose and cheeks. Ganjyu finds himself trailing off while the shinigami stares at him, licking his lips nervously and shifting a bit in Ganjyu's lap.

"…Hanatarou?"

Suddenly Hanatarou is turning and kissing him, and Ganjyu can feel those small hands on his cheeks, touching him with surprising solidity as Hanatarou sucks tentatively on his bottom lip.

When Yamada pulls back, Ganjyu is breathless and a little confused, and Hanatarou must see it in his eyes because he smiles sheepishly and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Um… now…f-for the rest of the night we uh…"

Ganjyu swallows. "Yeah?"

"For the rest of the night… we've really got to study," the shinigami finishes, smoothing out the pages of the textbook in his lap with a sense of finality.

Ganjyu groans and buries his nose into Hanatarou's hair. "Tease," he murmurs, only half-joking.

Hanatarou pats his hand reassuringly, takes it in his own smaller one and gives it a little squeeze.

Then it's back to business again, and Hanatarou starts by saying, "All right um… name the different classes of kidoh now?"

Ganjyu, sighing, thinks about it for a moment. Grins. "What'll I get if I do it?"

Hanatarou blinks in cute confusion. "Eh?"

Perfect. Ganjyu smiles and bends to murmur in the shinigami's ear. "You heard me…what'll…I…get…if…I…do… mmmm?"

"Aaah, Ganjyu!"

"Heheheh…that's more like it. Mmmm… so…kidoh, huh?"

"_Ganjyu_!"

**END**


	142. The Blind Prophet

**142.**

**Title:** The Blind Prophet  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KomamuraxTousen (ish)**  
Word Count:** 743  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc in a vague way, but more specific spoilers for the Komamura and Tousen back story chapter.   
**Summary:** The blind man's touch foretells things to come.  
**Dedication:** Um, I don't know who would want it. Sooo… I guess it's for whoever does. ;;  
**A/N: **I don't know, I felt melodramatic tonight. Could be the PMS (oops… was that TMI?) Anyway, probably some OOC here, and wild speculation on my part, but that's half the fun of fanfic anyway, right? Of course.

* * *

He's never liked being touched because there's something far too intimate about the act that unnerves him. It's something he can't quite hide from, something that bares him for perusal even as he tries to hide behind his helmet and gloves and heavy robes.

It's far too probing, touch is, and for someone who feels like an outsider wherever he goes, it is simply too revealing, too dangerous.

So one day, when a young Tousen Kaname had bumped into an equally young Komamura Sajin, the sudden sensation of contact had surprised him and he'd immediately tensed, staring down at man who'd run into him with his most menacing aura, expecting his size and girth to intimidate the other shinigami into immediately withdrawing.

Except, much to his shock and disbelief, the hand that had been used to brace against him had clung to his chest, palm flat and fingers spread. And while Tousen had marveled at Komamura's size as he'd stared off blankly in front of him, it had still taken a full two seconds for the larger death god to realize that the man touching him so openly could not see him.

For some reason, he had allowed himself to relax a little during that first encounter.

And now, a long time after that initial meeting, Tousen's open-palmed hand is the only one that Komamura feels comfortable with in all of Soul Society, it's blind exploration of Sajin's shoulder, or arm, or back, or chest the sole touch in the world that does not unnerve him like others do. Perhaps it is due to the fact that when it is Tousen's hand, Komamura feels that the touch is one used to communicate rather than judge, a connection that speaks between the two of them on a level far deeper than sight and speech ever can.

Kaname's touch explores him fearlessly, guilelessly, freely. It is honest and gentle, and Komamura thinks that it is the only hand that will ever mean anything profound to him.

It is the only one that he has allowed to touch his true face.

He remembers Kaname's quiet exclamation of shock as he'd marveled at the anomaly that was Komamura, two hands exploring firmly but gently, the sides of his muzzle, the fur along his throat, the pointed ears atop his head. He remembers his embarrassment at being so exposed, his shame and foreboding as searching hands found his furrowed brow, tickling sensitive whiskers along the way.

"Why such an agonized expression, my friend? Does it hurt?"

"No… a little," he'd admitted, being unable to read the true depth's of Tousen's serene countenance as they'd kneeled beside one another in the most intimate moment of Komamura's life.

He'd never been so afraid.

And then Kaname had smiled and told him, "You're amazing," in such an awe-filled voice that Komamura had no choice but to believe his friend as Tousen touched with that open palm, the top of Komamura's bowed and quivering head.

There had been something deep and overwhelming in his heart when he heard those words. "I'm…"

"You shouldn't hide, Sajin," Kaname had said as he'd leaned forward to touch his nose to Komamura's wet one. "You're magnificent."

"I…they can't… they wouldn't…"

"What wouldn't they?"

"They wouldn't understand," he'd gritted out quietly, nose twitching as it filled with Kaname's distinct scent, warm and familiar and full of an acceptance that was both painful and comforting to the giant shinigami.

"Why wouldn't they?"

"They… they aren't like you. They…"

"They judge," Tousen had finished for him, voice dropping just below a whisper because he understood, and the truth filled him with sorrow. "They're wrong to. They're wrong about a lot of things."

"But they still do it."

Kaname had smiled sadly at him then, had taken his comrade's fur-covered face between two gentle hands. "One day, they won't judge any more, friend. They will learn that no one is theirs to judge."

The firmness with which he made his sentiments known were noble, as speech always was coming from Tousen, but Komamura could not find it in himself to truly believe. "I…"

Kaname had let go of him then, and resting his open palm against Komamura's chest, right above his heart, the blind shinigami had made a declaration.

"I will find a way to change them."

It had been like a prophecy.

Komamura doesn't know why, but the moment he'd heard that, he remembers that he'd felt like weeping.

**END**


	143. Motherly

**143.**

**Title:** Motherly  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yuzu**  
Word Count:** 828  
**Warning/s: **Uuum, spoilers for maybe the first like, 2 volumes of the manga but really, we're all ahead of _that_ right? Right.  
**Summary:** A day in the life of Kurosaki Yuzu.  
**Dedication:** Mom, of course.  
**A/N: **So my brother calls my mom today at 9:30 in the morning and says that it's his turn on their weekly rotation to have their lunch break at our house. And thus, we need to be prepared to feed 7 football players at 11:30 the same morning. My mom somehow manages to make orange chicken, economy-sized plates of chicken fried rice and lo mein, egg-drop soup, beef and broccoli (with MUSHROOMS), and brownies in the 2 hours my brother gave us to be ready. I have no words.

* * *

She still can't quite reach the highest shelves in the kitchen, even with the step stool, so they've had to make space in the bottom cabinets with more economy than they might have had Masaki been there.

And she has to go to the grocery store a lot because there's only so much a little girl on foot can carry home at one time, which means she goes almost every day after school. She knows how to pick the freshest vegetables and to look for the lowest prices, she compares newspaper adds every weekend and clips coupons and keeps them in her backpack, next to her Hello Kitty pencil case and her four-function calculator.

She also has to remember that Karin doesn't like pickled plums and Isshin does, that Ichigo hates cauliflower but will eat broccoli, while Karin will eat both and Isshin will have neither. Karin is allergic to peanuts, her father only likes red beans when they're pasty and not beany, and Ichigo ironically, prefers grape jelly over strawberry jam.

When she does laundry she always has to check Isshin's pockets for pens or candies or strange things like interestingly-shaped rocks that he picked up, named, and decided to keep, because she forgot to check them once and every single one of his white lab coats came out of the wash with dark ink stains. She'd cried for days after that because it was such a waste and a stupid mistake and she should have _known_ better, but her dad still wears those lab coats because he says they're more interesting now than they were before, and plain white is boring after all, isn't it? She doesn't think it looks very professional, but she's grateful that he hadn't gotten mad at her for the accident, though she's one by one, switching out the ruined coats for new ones over the course of time.

Her day starts an hour and a half before the rest of the household is, she starts by making the parts of her family's lunches that she hadn't been able to make the night before, finishing off their bentos and packing them up appropriately before she starts on breakfast. Scrambled eggs for Karin, sunny-side up for her father, over-easy for Ichigo. Toast for everyone and three different kinds of spread- butter, grape jelly, strawberry jam. Then it's off to school with Karin and after classes end, she goes to the store while her sister stays for after school activities. She gets home with her groceries and puts them away before she starts the rice in the cooker, and then she goes to change into her nurse's uniform to go help out at the clinic. She stops around six, changes back into her house clothes, and begins dinner promptly thereafter, because Karin is home by then and can help out with the patients while she cooks.

Once dinner's ready, she washes the dishes leftover from breakfast that morning as her family drifts in after her. They eat together and then she and Karin clean up while her brother trudges upstairs with an extra helping of food (he seems to be eating a lot more these days, which means buying extra at the store) and her father goes to check in on the stay-over patients and prepare for work in the morning.

After cleaning is done she starts on making lunch for everyone tomorrow, at least, the parts that will keep nicely in the fridge until morning. Karin goes to start her homework and Yuzu finishes up in the kitchen with her cleaning and preparations for the next day. She takes her apron off and hangs it up when she's done, grabbing her book bag from the table and going up to her room to start her homework.

She finishes long after Karin has gone to bed, and after changing and brushing her teeth she prepares her uniform for tomorrow, being as quiet as she can so she doesn't wake anyone else up. Before she goes to sleep she takes a deep breath and slides into her bed, looking at the picture of her mother that she keeps on the nightstand beside her head. She curls up on her side and before she turns her lamp off, she smiles and tiredly, whispers to Masaki about the events of her day and how much work it is to take care of everyone.

It's at these times that she misses her mom the most.

But before it gets too late and she, god forbid, makes herself cry, she cuts herself off and turns off the light. She closes her eyes and tells herself to sleep because tomorrow will be another early morning.

Her last thoughts before she drifts off are that her mother was really amazing, to be able to do all these things for the family every day without a word of complaint.

Yuzu hopes that maybe, maybe she can be just as amazing one day.

**END**


	144. Absolutely

**144.**

**Title:** Absolutely  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Komamura (could be seen as KomamuraxTousen-ish)**  
Word Count:** 543  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Komamura used to believe in absolutes.  
**Dedication:** My bro- good luck during your first week!  
**A/N: **I don't know at all. I think it was talking to my brother on the phone while he's all the way in Rhode Island for his first few days of college at Brown. He was talking about how he missed his old friends and then I got this _line_ stuck in my head and poof! Suddenly more Komamura and Tousen! WHO KNEW?

* * *

Komamura used to believe in absolutes. There was no space for compromise or loopholes in his honor, no space for "almost" or "just a little" in his justice. He was someone who rallied behind a battle-cry of "do or die," because there was no in-between, no "close" or "good enough" for him. 

He used to believe that good was good and evil was evil, and that good should take no prisoners and destroy everything that was evil. For the sake of honor. For the sake of justice.

That was the kind of shinigami he was.

Now, now he thinks he's a hypocrite.

Because now he thinks he sees an in-between after all, a gray area halfway between black and white that he ignored before, that he refused to see.

The only reason he sees it now is because most important person in the world to him is standing there.

If Komamura truly believed in absolutes like he professed to for all those years, he would hate his friend. Seeing Tousen standing in that place in-between, he should want to strike his friend down as an enemy for choosing something not-entirely good. Because to Komamura, something not-entirely good has always been only evil. That was how he thought, what he always believed.

He should want to kill Tousen.

But he doesn't. He doesn't at all.

And that makes him a hypocrite, makes him question everything he believed in and stood for his entire life because now, everything he based his honor on is dangerously close to falling apart.

Everything he thought he knew before isn't what it used to be in his head. There are no more absolutes now, because Komamura knows that while Tousen is not an evil man, he has inexplicably, still chosen something that isn't good.

And if Komamura is the honorable shinigami he wants to be, it should be easy to dismiss his close relationship with the traitor and seek to strike Kaname down for his treason, for the good of the court.

As an honorable officer of seireitei, he should be willing and able to do it.

As simple as that.

But it's not, because Komamura is a hypocrite and all he can think when faced with the dilemma is that he wishes Tousen would come back to him.

His world of absolutes is slipping away and a saddened Sajin is all that remains in the aftermath, a lonely shinigami sitting at the grave of his ally's dead friend with a furrowed brow and bowed head.

It's impossible to live like this, to be a shinigami like this. Komamura knows that he cannot pretend to stand for the ideals he once stood for and wish for Kaname's return at the same time, not when he knows very well that his friend is a traitor and a threat to all the things he wants to believe in.

Something has to break, whether it be the very core of his beliefs or the connection he has with someone who might be the most important person in his life.

He has to decide if Tousen Kaname is someone worth throwing away everything for.

Surprisingly, the most immense dilemma of Komamura's life yields one of the easiest answers.

He wants his friend back.

**END**


	145. I Know a Hot Guy Who Swallowed a Fly

**  
145.**

**Title:** I Know a Hot Guy Who Swallowed a Fly  
**Rating: **PG-13 (innuendo anyone?)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru, and background HisagixAyasekawa**  
Word Count:** 447  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers really, just a lot of um… crack.  
**Summary:** Crack fic- Yumi swallows a fly. And fish, apparently (among other things).  
**Dedication:** emoxic- thanks again for the Soi Fong fanart! I know this isn't what you might've wanted, but Kenpachi's there! Yes. I'll do better next time, I swear.  
**A/N: **Okay, I'm going to hell for this, but I got the idea for _this_ little crackfest when I was flipping through channels bored out of my mind and heard the rhyme for the "I know an old lady who swallowed a fly" on Nick Jr. And apparently, that wasn't _all_ she swallowed and yeah, bad things just kind of grew in my mind from there. I'm SICK I tell you, SICK.

* * *

It so happened during an eleventh division roll call that, upon moving to answer his captain's inquiry regarding whether he'd performed the essential task of restocking the headquarters' cellar with liberal amounts of alcohol, a bug flew into Ayasekawa Yumichika's mouth and was promptly, if accidentally, swallowed. 

Yachiru had caused a big fuss about the incident because she'd heard somewhere that doing such a thing inevitably led to a lingering and painful death. She, poised atop Zaraki Kenpachi's shoulder, leaned forward eagerly in order to witness the groundbreaking event.

Zaraki, in his best fatherly tone, had told her that Yumichika wasn't going to die.

When she asked him why not, he responded with a snort and the declaration that, "Yumi's swallowed all sortsa things that ain't technically supposed to be swallowed and he's not dead yet."

When Yachiru asked what Ken-chan meant by that, she was directed to the ninth division vice-captain's office and told that he could clarify.

Shuuhei, when asked by the pink-haired girl-child, turned rather red in the face and lamely declared that he'd seen Yumi swallow a whole um… fish, yeah fish… before, which was probably what Kenpachi had meant by his swallowing comment and now that _that_ whole mess was cleared up, could Kusajika-fukutaichou please leave his office _now_ because he had work to do?

Yachiru, only more intrigued at that point, had promptly gone to the koi pond in the middle of the court's prized gardens and caught the biggest fish she could get between her two small hands.

Bringing the still wriggling prize to Ayasekawa, she presented it to him and declared that he _had_ to swallow it for her so that she could see what Shuu-chan had meant.

Yumichika turned slightly red himself and told her very patiently, that it hadn't been _that_ sort of fish.

Disappointed, Yachiru had put her koi back in the pond (now it _floated_! and returned to Kenpachi's side, telling him of her predicament and how sad she was that she hadn't gotten to see either death _or_ fish swallowing.

Kenpachi, patting her on the head comfortingly, growled and declared that Shuuhei was a pantywaist and a liar. He then went on to tell the little vice-captain, very matter-of-factly, that when Hisagi had said fish, he'd meant cock.

Expecting it to end with that, Zaraki hadn't been prepared for Yachiru's wide-eyed declaration of delighted wonder and her supposition that watching cock-swallowing must be _a hundred_ times more interesting than watching fish-swallowing.

She promptly evacuated her spot on his shoulder and went off with the intent of catching the nearest live rooster.

In hindsight, Kenpachi supposed that he should have stuck with the fish story.

**END**


	146. Low Tolerance

**  
146.**

**Title:** Low Tolerance  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **UkitakexShunsuixUkitake (What? Yeah, I thought the same.)**  
Word Count:** 919  
**Warning/s: **Um, probably some OOCness in here. Lots of it, actually.  
**Summary:** Ukitake's like a whole different person when he's had a few.   
**Dedication:** Trust me, no one wants it. O.o  
**A/N: ** Um… I hate this one, but it wouldn't leave me alone after I heard my dad and his friend who's visiting conversing about someone they know who's always totally straight-laced and professional _until_ he gets drunk. Then I just kept getting weird ideas and _this_ was born and I AM SO SORRY. I suck for this one, I do.

* * *

Ukitake doesn't get drunk often, at least, not as often as Kyouraku does, though that doesn't say much about his sobriety in the end at all, he supposes. But the fact of the matter is that he doesn't drink often enough to have built up any sort of high tolerance for liquor, and on those rare occasions that Shunsui is able to convince him to knock back a few together, Ukitake always ends up with a painfully dry mouth and a pounding headache come morning.

He complains about it constantly when the other captain tries to get him to join him in his cups, but on a rare occasion, Shunsui will look at him with just the right expression, the one that's warm and teasing and full of adoration and anticipation all at the same time. He looks like such an excited little kid on those nights, and when Shunsui looks at Jyuushirou in just the right way like that, the thirteenth division captain can't help but say yes.

Jyuushirou knows that he'll pay for it in the morning, but it's a rare occasion anyway, and he feels that Shunsui should get _something_ for those ridiculously well-crafted puppy dog eyes.

And so, on a rare occasion, Jyuushirou will allow himself to get good and smashed.

And he always wakes up the next day with a dry mouth, a pounding headache, and a cheerfully snoring Shunsui underneath him, the eighth division captain having fallen asleep naked and smiling, one arm draped casually over the curve of Ukitake's back, keeping the white-haired man from moving.

At that, Ukitake can't help but wonder if their shared drinking experiences are simply an excuse for the other man to get him into bed, given that their tolerance levels differ on such a grand scale. But that wouldn't make any sense, because really, if Kyouraku wanted to share his bed, it was more often than not, always open to him.

Thinking about it for a while yields no answers, and so Ukitake patiently waits until the next time Shunsui invites him to drink, with the intent to ask what the purpose of getting him drunk is.

When asked, Shunsui feigns indignation at having any ulterior motive; he insists that he wants nothing more than Jyuu-chan's fine company on certain lonely nights, as Ukitake is his first and only choice to share good alcohol and conversation with.

Ukitake looks back at him skeptically when he hears this, because they've known each other for far too long for Shunsui to expect that he'll buy that load of bullshit when he's laying it on that thick, as sweet as the sentiment may be.

Shunsui laughs sheepishly at being caught red-handed, and taking Jyuushirou's hand in his, pulls the other captain into his lap. "I really do want your company, you know," he whispers into Ukitake's ear, his free hand stroking the thirteenth division leader's long hair absently.

"I can't imagine I'm very good company drunk," Jyuushirou responds with a gentle snort.

Kyouraku chuckles then, a low sensual rumbling in his chest that means he knows something that his dear Jyuu-chan doesn't, and after a moment, Ukitake grows impatient for an answer. Crossing his arms, he asks what's so funny.

"Nothing, nothing. You're _great _company when you're drunk, really. You're ah… you're quite the wildcat when you're a bit sloshed," Shunsui explains with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Ukitake blushes a little at the thought of that, wondering what sort of embarrassment he's subjected himself to in the past under the combined influences of Kyouraku Shunsui and alcohol. "Am I?" he asks, frowning thoughtfully.

"Aa," Shunsui breathes with a wistful look in his eye. "Last time, you shoved me over, crawled right on top of me and…" he trails off there, shrugging his eyebrows suggestively at a flabbergasted Jyuushirou, letting his wolfish expression explain the rest.

And then Jyuushirou gets it.

"So _that's_ why…"

Kyouraku, far from being embarrassed, nods. "It's quite the experience."

Ukitake smacks him. Hard. "Shunsui!"

"What? What? What'd I do?" the other captain asks, showing signs of surprise for the first time that night.

Ukitake, face flaming, does his best to sit up straight in Kyouraku's lap, crossing his arms and looking very disapproving. "You…"

"Me?"

"You…" His pretense melts at Kyouraku's wounded expression, and with a heavy sigh, Jyuushirou buries his face resignedly into his lover's shoulder. "If _that's_ what you wanted," he starts, ears turning pink, "…all you had to do was ask."

Shunsui inhales sharply at that, and Jyuushirou wonders if he'd inadvertently overstepped some sort of sacred boundary that's never supposed to be spoken of aloud.

And then, Shunsui's arms suddenly tighten around Ukitake and very quietly, the white-haired man hears his lover say, "Ne… Jyuu-chan…tonight, you wanna…"

Ukitake's the one who inhales this time, and after a moment of silence between them, he decisively removes his head from Shunsui's shoulder so he can look up at the other man.

"Let's have a few drinks first."

A beat.

And then Shunsui bursts out laughing, not being able to help himself when he leans forward and gently kisses Jyuushirou's forehead because it's too cute. "I know you too well sometimes," he gloats, eating up the delicious little blush that's blossomed on the apples of his lover's cheeks.

Ukitake scowls at the still laughing Kyouraku a few moments later, and he thinks to himself that tonight, after those drinks, he's going to tie the arrogant bastard up.

And maybe gag him too.

**END**


	147. Missing You

**147.**

**Title:** Missing You  
**Rating: **PG-15 (to be safe? I dunno how to rate these things, really…)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **snippets of AizenxIchimaru, some Tousen thrown in too. **  
Word Count:** 634  
**Warning/s: **Major spoilers for the Soul Society arc, and slight spoilers for the post-Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Aizen misses Hinamori.  
**Dedication:** My JAC buddies in CA and abroad- I'm so lonely! Oh so lonely! And my brother has gas. Like, constantly, all the time.  
**A/N: ** I really can't explain this beyond the fact that I was sitting on my living room couch thinking about what I should write next and the first thing that popped into my head was, "I miss evil." There is obviously something very wrong with me.

* * *

For all of Ichimaru's loyalty and all of Tousen's devotion, Aizen still finds himself missing his sweet little Momo-chan the most as he sits atop his throne in his palace in-between, the king of a world, the creator of a new era.

He thinks it might have something to do with the fact that Gin's smiles are anything but innocent and that Kaname's eyes are the farthest from wide and awe-filled as one can get. Neither of them can look up at him with the cutest, most adorable idol-worship that he's ever seen, and they certainly don't have cheeks so round and young and fresh that he wants to pinch them between his fingers, make them pink and embarrassed and filthy with the touch of his powerful hands.

Kaname doesn't wrinkle his nose at Aizen and ask the older man "why, taichou?" and Gin will never fold his hands against his chest and look up at the former fifth division leader, wanting to hear some word of comfort, some promise that everything will be okay.

Rather, he feels as though his subordinates have been under his control for far too long, all innocence and naiveté having been snuffed out of them eons ago. So instead of looking to Aizen for any sort of guidance, Gin will saunter in, naked more often than not, and interrupt his former captain's reading time by asking very wickedly, to be fucked within an inch of his life. Kaname might seek to report his latest findings shortly thereafter, the blind man walking in and wrinkling his nose only because he can smell sex and not out of any sort of wondering innocence. And then he'll simply excuse himself before turning around and walking out the door, dignified and jaded and without even the slightest hint of embarrassment on his face at all.

It's a little bit disappointing really, and Aizen Sousuke sometimes thinks that he misses his cute little Hinamori-chan because she really is everything these two are not.

She would recoil in shock, he thinks, if she ever were to walk in on such a scene. She would recoil and stare and gape and cry, those wonderful tears spilling onto cute pink cheeks, one after another after another all in a line.

She'd tremble and clutch her hands to her chest, looking up at him with those delicious tears on her face and ask, "why, taichou?", her eyes huge as they sought some word of comfort from him, some promise that everything will be okay.

But she's not here, and all he's left with instead are Gin's eerie smiles and Kaname's levelheaded cool. They are indeed two men whose absolute loyalty he commands, who have and would again follow him to the ends of the universe. And while Aizen is pleased with that aspect of it all, he can't help but feel as if they do it in a rather boring manner.

Really, neither of them cries at all, ever. Not even when he makes them bleed.

It makes him miss Hinamori all the more.

And so he sits in his extravagant court sipping wine and blood from Ichimaru's tongue, feeling rather bored with it all as he witnesses another experimental demi-hollow torn in half by an overwhelming surge of power, Tousen dispassionately attempting to yank its mask off with his bare hands. The hollow screams and implodes on itself, crying for help from Aizen-sama as it does. Frowning as the shouts die away, all Aizen Sousuke can think is that he would trade all the luxuries of his station here for just a half-dozen of little Momo-chan's tears.

Sighing, he rolls off of a panting, bleeding Ichimaru, supposing rather philosophically that what they say in the mortal realm is true after all.

It's lonely at the top.

**END**


	148. The Next Step

**148.**

**Title:** The Next Step  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou**  
Word Count:** 709  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers that I can think of. ;;  
**Summary:** Companion drabble to #141 ("Study" Buddies)- Ganjyu wants to take the next logical step in their relationship.  
**Dedication:** Beck-senpai. XD NOW DO YOU FEEL DIRTY:P  
**A/N: ** It was bound to happen sometime, right? I couldn't just keep writing them and not have them _get_ anywhere. So…here they are, finally at this one very special place in their relationship. I hope I don't get killed for it. ;;

* * *

He thinks that given everything he's already done with the little guy, this shouldn't be so nerve-wracking, but it is anyway because he's never done it before and he doesn't know where to start. 

But he's determined to push forward with his proposal because he thinks it's a crucial next-step in their relationship and the two of them need to do more than sit in each other's rooms and make out under the guise of studying together. There's more to how he feels about Hanatarou than that he thinks, though he's never felt this way before so he can't be sure about anything. All he does know is that he wants them to do this, as anxious as it makes him, as nervous and ill-prepared as he feels for what the next step entails.

So the next time he goes to visit Yamada, he, freshly bathed and in his nicest clothes, surprises the little shinigami by taking his hand in front of everybody and asking with slightly red cheeks, if he can talk to him alone for a moment.

Amidst many hoots and whistles from the other death gods, Hanatarou turns pink around the ears at Ganjyu's request and instinctively looks down at his feet, fidgeting for a nervous moment before looking back up shyly and nodding, squeezing Ganjyu's hand in his and letting the taller man escort him back to his room.

Ganjyu's palms are sweaty but Hanatarou doesn't seem to mind, holding on to his hand loyally as they walk side-by-side down the hallways towards Yamada's quarters, silent and anxious and not looking at one another at all.

Ganjyu's heart is pounding in his chest and he doesn't trust himself not to chicken out last minute as they get closer and closer to their destination. He thinks that maybe he's rushing this, that maybe there should be more time just staying how they are right now before they move on to what he's got in mind.

"G-ganjyu?"

Hanatarou's voice pulls him back from his self-doubt and he looks down at Yamada's wide eyes, the little shinigami's hand still firmly in his own.

And he's reminded again of why he wants what he wants. Taking a deep breath, Ganjyu nods at Hanatarou and they proceed into his room, where fortified, the larger man takes a seat on the shinigami's bed.

"Is everything okay?" Hanatarou asks, picking up on Ganjyu's nervousness and becoming in turn, anxious himself. "I um…didn't expect to get to see you today…" the shinigami starts, laughing awkwardly as he sits down beside Ganjyu, their hips a hairsbreadth away from touching.

"Uh yeah…everything's fine, don't worry," Ganjyu responds with a watery smile, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as he looks at Yamada's profile next to him, noting that the other boy might be even more nervous than him given how sensitive Hanatarou always is to Ganjyu's moods.

"Ah… look," he starts, feeling guilty for suddenly appearing in front of the little guy and making him all anxious without telling him why. "I uh… I came around today 'cuz I um, I wanted to ask you somethin'," he explains, looking down at his hands in front of him.

Hanatarou blinks. "Eh?"

"Now… you don't have to answer right away," Ganjyu adds hastily, mentally kicking himself for sounding so stupid. "It's just lately… you know, with you and me and the uh… well, the… _you know_…"

Yamada's cheeks flush crimson and that lets Ganjyu know that they're on the same page, which is a good sign. Clearing his throat, he pushes intrepidly onward. "Um anyway… it's like I said, you don't haveta answer right away, I just um… I uh…"

He pauses when he feels the small shinigami lean against him, and with Yamada's shoulder bumping the larger man's arm, Hanatarou looks up at Ganjyu and offers an encouraging smile. "Just ask," he urges shyly, resting his head on Shiba's shoulder.

Feeling sheepish when it's shaky little Yamada that has to comfort him, Ganjyu smiles self-deprecatingly and drapes an arm over the little death god's shoulder, feeling slightly more confident when he does. He takes a deep breath and takes the plunge.

"So… uh… you wanna maybe, go out for dinner with me sometime?"

**END**


	149. Fan Mail

**149.**

**Title:** Fan Mail   
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ByakuyaxRenji, but teasingly. **  
Word Count:** 717  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc.  
**Summary:** Renji learns why he shouldn't keep making fun of his captain.  
**Dedication:** Skye, because I'm going to be late with your birthday presents and I'm a BAD FRIEND BECAUSE OF IT.  
**A/N: **It's been a while since I've written these two, right? Sure… so here they are! Honestly though, I think I just like messing with Renji a little bit, since he's such a loveable idiot. XD

* * *

Byakuya didn't expect to become Soul Society's most eligible bachelor by any merit other than his family connections, but here he is anyway, slightly bewildered that he's suddenly so popular with the court's women, and for reasons other than the fact that he has money.

Well, that may be part of it.

But he thinks the news of a wealthy prince's unrequited love story appeals more to the hearts of others than cash alone, and he has unwittingly, won the love of seireitei after his battlefield confession to his sister of her true origins and her connection to his much beloved, long deceased wife.

Word apparently, gets out around the court, and the sixth division captain, upon being released from the infirmary, returns to work only to find his office constantly being inundated with gifts of food and homemade clothing, letters from admirers and prospective mates almost covering the entirety of the floor.

Renji thinks it's all rather hysterical, citing as raucously as possible, that he is now vice-captain to seireitei's newest and most popular idol (next to Hisagi), the redhead's voice carrying loud and clear through the office door he has a habit of leaving carelessly open.

Byakuya, in response to the teasing, tells Renji rather stiffly to please shut the door and assigns his noisy vice-captain some extra paperwork to keep him busy and hopefully, quiet. Abarai scowls and tells Byakuya that this would be a lot more fun for both of them if his captain would allow himself to have a sense of humor. And, he adds, Byakuya should just eat some of the mochi his fans were bringing while he was at it, 'cuz it was pretty damn good.

Byakuya tells him to continue helping himself to the goodies so long as he'll just shut the door and please finish his paperwork without having to speak any more on the whole fiasco.

Renji however, seems to like talking more than he should, and constantly finds the need to pester his captain, doing things such as reading his superior's love-notes out loud with the office door open, rating them on a scale from one to ten. Or on particularly heavy gift days, Abarai likes to notify Byakuya as to which food offerings are best and thus, which girl he should marry such that the sixth division can always stay well-stocked with such goods.

Byakuya does his best to ignore his vice-captain by assigning more and more paperwork.

Renji grumbles about the extra labor but keeps a running point count on his favorite candidates for bride-hood anyway.

After a month of enduring the redhead's licentious teasing, Byakuya decides to put an end to it _and_ the letters once and for all.

"So, Renji, which lady is in the lead this week according to your scores?" he asks one afternoon, appearing behind the snickering redhead as he's reading his captain's letters and munching good-naturedly on a handful of cookies.

"Eh? Seriously?" Renji pauses at the inquiry, looking up at the sixth division captain for some signs of menace, things like more paperwork or his drawn zanpakutou.

When he sees none, he swallows and wipes any excess crumbs from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "Um… well," he begins warily, "this one girl roasts some good nuts and this other one seems ta like sendin' homegrown fruit and…"

"How are the cookies you're eating?" Kuchiki interrupts, leaning forward slightly to place himself into Renji's personal space.

"T-the um, the cookies? They're pretty good, uh… they're…"

"May I have a taste?"

"Sure, there's still a couple left and…"

Byakuya kisses him.

Renji is so stunned that he can't move, and Byakuya, out of the corner of his eye, spies that his vice-captain has once again, very carelessly left the door open. And as he tastes those cinnamon cookies on Abarai's lips, the sixth division captain wonders with a rather wicked little smile, if this is one of the ways in which word gets around seireitei so quickly.

He counts on it.

One week later, when Byakuya ceases receiving fan letters at about the same time that Renji begins to get hate mail in droves, it's the first inundation of deliveries to the sixth division headquarters that Byakuya can say he fully approves of.

**END**


	150. Sleepless

**150.**

**Title:** Sleepless   
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika**  
Word Count:** 997 (whoo, three words within limits… XD)  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but some sap and WAFF and all those schmoopy things that I like with these two.   
**Summary:** Some nights are harder than others.  
**Dedication:** Roll call! C'mon ShuuxYumi fans, let me know where you are. This one's for you all.  
**A/N: ** I just wanted to be sappy. So I'm being sappy. I think it's the whole, after-Aizen from drabble #147 I just needed LOTS of sappy to balance myself internally. I feel better now though, so it's all to a purpose. Yes.

* * *

He can sleep without Shuuhei beside him like a normal person, even though he's in love and that in itself makes him abnormal as is. He can sleep with Shuuhei gone from their bed because he has to some nights, on the nights that duty calls and he has to remember that they're still shinigami in the end, despite the anomaly of being in love.

So on the nights like tonight with Shuuhei gone, Yumichika closes his eyes and rolls to face the empty half of the bed, telling himself that he can sleep without Shuuhei here because he has to. He doesn't particularly want to, but he can because tomorrow there's work to be done and he can't forget that he's a death god too, despite how painfully smitten he is with the person that's supposed to be sleeping on the other side of him.

He can sleep without Shuuhei here, it's just a little bit harder.

But there are cheats, he's learned, there are techniques he can use that help make it possible, and on the worst nights he takes Shuuhei's pillow and buries his nose into it, a poor substitution but one with the familiar, comforting scent he is used to falling asleep beside. That helps, and after a few hours, he'll eventually drift off, wrapped around the smell of his lover.

The only setback of this strategy is the fact that on those assignments that take a week or more, the scent begins to change and everything begins to smell like himself, which makes those later nights alarming in some inexplicable way. It's those nights when Yumichika can't hug his lover's pillow and smell his scent that are the hardest nights of all.

But he's stubborn and so he curls around Shuuhei's pillow anyway, forcing himself sleep even if it's just for an hour or half an hour, because he's a shinigami still, and in the morning there's work to do.

Tonight is another one of those most difficult nights because the comforting smells aren't there and Shuuhei's been gone for six days, out in the field to instruct high-level academy students.

He hopes Shuuhei at least, is sleeping well as they camp out in seireitei's next-world training facilities. He wonders if the other man faces similar problems sleeping or if it's just him, the one who's been spoiled so thoroughly by the kind, attentive mate that Shuuhei is such that he has a difficult time doing without him.

He hopes that's the case, because staying in the field for prolonged periods of time is dangerous, and if Shuuhei isn't well rested he might be hurt or worse.

It's a bit odd, but it makes sense in the long run, Yumi wanting to be missed less than he is missing, and as he shuts his eyes in an attempt to get some rest, he wishes Shuuhei a deep, restful sleep tonight.

He jumps a moment later when he hears a scuffling noise from outside, and frowning to himself, he rolls over to face the door, wondering if it's a stray animal or some of his teammates playing a prank.

It's most likely the latter, and Yumichika scowls, getting out of bed because he's not really sleeping anyway, wrapping his robe around himself with the intent of marching outside to tell whoever's there to go to sleep because tomorrow they have fitness drills led by Zaraki-taichou and if they're not rested for that, they might actually _die._

He tries to forget that he's not exactly sleeping well himself lately.

Lighting a candle he exits the bedroom, padding barefoot towards the door, absently fixing his mussed hair with his hand.

When he sees Shuuhei removing his sandals in the doorway, he nearly drops the candle.

"S-shuuhei?"

"Did I wake you?" the vice-captain asks, voice low as he finishes with his shoes and moves into the candlelight.

He looks, Yumi notes, absolutely exhausted.

"You didn't wake me," Ayasekawa admits after a moment of studying the tired vice-captain. "You just surprised me!" he chastises softly, stepping forward and taking his lover's hand in his own. "You're early, I wasn't expecting you…" he adds to clarify, setting the candle down before drawing the other man forward. Sighing happily, he buries his nose into the front of Shuuhei's robe and inhales deeply. "You smell horrible," he laughs after the first breath, wrinkling his nose.

Shuuhei chuckles and wraps his arms around Yumi anyway. "Yeah, well, field work," he explains dryly.

"Not that I mind, but why are you back so early? I thought you still had until tomorrow with the class…"

Shuuhei hesitates a moment before he murmurs something unintelligible into Yumi's hair.

"What was that?" Ayasekawa asks, drawing back so he can hear better.

"I uh…" Shuuhei sighs resignedly after a second and reaches into his pocket, pulling out one of Yumi's handkerchiefs. He waves it. "It…uh, stopped smelling like you," Hisagi admits, cheeks pink. "I couldn't sleep well, so we uh, ended early," he finishes lamely.

Yumi looks at him incredulously. "You…"

Shuuhei turns away. "Uh… yeah…"

Yumi, laughing tenderly, cups the other man's cheeks and kisses him impulsively, because he just can't _not_ after that. "Let's get some sleep," he urges after they pull apart. "You look exhausted."

Shuuhei nods, leaning forward to peck Ayasekawa on the lips once more before he lets him lead them back into the bedroom.

Yumi puts out his candle and they crawl into bed tiredly, Shuuhei immediately invading Ayasekawa's half of the bed and wrapping his arms around him, resting his cheek on the other man's chest and breathing deeply.

Literally three breaths later, Shuuhei's out cold, snoring like a shrieking Hollow right into Yumi's ear, warm and content and obviously making up for all the sleep he'd lost over the past six days.

Yumi sighs and kisses his lover's forehead before he settles down and closes his eyes.

He proceeds to get the best sleep he's had all week.

**END**


	151. Time for a Makeover

**  
151.**

**Title:** Time for a Makeover  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Urahara, Kurotsuchi**  
Word Count:** 630  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Urahara's past, and on Mayuri's appearance.   
**Summary:** Kurotsuchi Mayuri knows when it's time to change his image.  
**Dedication:** Beck- I know she likes this sort of thing, right? Yeeeah.  
**A/N: ** I just wanted to mess with Mayuri a little. Because it's fun. And I'm not really paying attention to what comes out of me tonight since I'm watching US Open Quarterfinal matches. I have no idea who to root for now. --;;

* * *

It was always "ah, my cute little Mayu-chan," in the past, Urahara-taichou constantly reaching out and pinching his cheeks or ruffling his hair, the blonde captain even going so far as to fondly tweak his vice-captain's nose in front of others, an embarrassing show of how lackadaisical a leader Urahara was when it came down to important things like work.

Mayuri remembered from the early days of his career, how an experiment of his would go wrong and there would be a small explosion, and instead of getting mad, Urahara-taichou would put his hand on Mayuri's shoulder and laugh, rubbing the soot from his vice-captain's face and saying, "don't worry, my cute little Mayu-chan… practice, it's all about practice, yes?" before he'd toddle off to do whatever brilliant work he somehow pulled out of his ass without having to use any determination or force of will, the twelfth division captain breezing through his scientific research like some sort of natural genius and coming up with all the right answers effortlessly while Mayuri could only stand by and wipe ash from his eyes as he glared after his captain.

Other times, he remembered how he would propose a subject for research, would prepare a study, would comb through books to make a perfect report, and Urahara, chewing unprofessionally on some snack or other as he strolled the lab, would pause behind him and glance at his work for a fraction of a second before smiling and ruffling Mayuri's hair, chuckling that "my cute little Mayu-chan is very close! Why don't you take another look at the second equation, ne?" And then he'd walk away with that smarmy smile on his face, unquestionably going off to go read dirty novels or take a nap in his office.

It had been enough to drive Mayuri crazy at times, but there was nothing he could really, formally complain about regarding Urahara, considering how _supportive_ his captain always was about everything.

Everyone blamed it on Mayuri's good looks, knowing Urahara's universal weakness for a pretty face. They seemed to resent the twelfth division vice-captain for his appearance as it prompted the blonde commander to, well…spoil him.

When accused of it by other captains, Urahara never denied it.

"Kisuke, you pamper your boy a little too much, don't you think?"

"Maaa… but Mayu-chan is so cute, Jyuu-chan! I can't let him worry about little things that I can take care of and have him ruin his good looks, ne? It's no problem, no problem!"

It made Mayuri's blood boil, and some people speculate that that was solely to blame for the twelfth division captain's current state of…eccentricity.

And Mayuri didn't doubt the accusations himself at times, remembering how he'd close his eyes at night and still be able to feel Urahara Kisuke's hand in his hair or his fingers on his cheeks, mocking him. He remembered going to bed and having the phantom sensation of his nose being tweaked by mocking fingers, his back being patted whenever he was close, but not quite perfect enough in his work.

"But it's okay! Mayu-chan is so cute that little mistakes like that are forgivable with such a wonderful face ne?"

The mere thought of that infuriating man never failed to make the current twelfth division leader clench his fists in frustration.

To say the least, he was ecstatic on the day that Urahara-taichou mysteriously disappeared, because it was possible that had the blonde captain remained, Kurotsuchi would have murdered him in his sleep before much longer.

As it were, Urahara was thankfully gone, and on the day Mayuri was formally appointed as the new captain of seireitei's twelfth division some odd weeks later, he decided that some important changes were immediately in order.

He started with his face.

**END**


	152. Worth the Wait

**152.**

**Title:** Worth the Wait  
**Rating: **PG-15 to R, depending on how you look at it.   
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake**  
Word Count:** 560  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but vaguely pornographic content here. XD  
**Summary:** Kyouraku is an artist when it comes to patience.  
**Dedication:** fallofrain- NOW THERE ARE MORE OF US. WIN.  
**A/N: ** I don't know, I felt like pron. And then I've been writing lots of these two it seems lately, and I just got this LINE in my head and it just kind or ran away with me there. I still think I'm rather no good at the whole R-rated type content, but practice is the only way to get better at it, right? So I'll keep practicing. Yes.

* * *

Patience is a quality that requires a little bit of artistry, Shunsui thinks, because there's more to patience than just waiting.

Rather, he feels it's waiting for something you've worked hard for to come to fruition, something that you've set up carefully and are awaiting the desired outcome to. And so he continues to set up carefully, smiling gently and running his fingers down the curve of Jyuushirou's shoulder, leaning forward to press a kiss to the small of the other captain's back as he awaits his desired outcome.

Ukitake shudders under his touch, a strangled noise escaping from the back of his throat as he bunches the sheets in his hands and tries to keep from crying out because it's late and other people are sleeping.

Kyouraku chuckles when he hears it, thinks that his virtuous patience is beginning to pay off now because Jyuushirou is on the verge of shouting, and that's exactly what Shunsui's been waiting for all evening.

It's taken all the artistry of his hands to get this far tonight, all the skilled knowledge of his patiently smiling lips as he waits for what he wants, knowing that if he holds himself back for the moment, the payoff at the end will be far more wonderful than falling victim to his own licentious yearning now.

Patience requires a certain amount of finesse after all, and he's using every bit he has, wringing soft sighs and whimpering cries from his obstinate partner with his fingertips, creating a priceless work of art with Jyuushirou's trembling body as he exploits all the knowledge he has of this deliciously familiar form.

It's the expertise of slow kisses and an intrepidly delving tongue to secret places that make Ukitake squirm, the precision of firmly probing fingers and ghostly caresses that make Jyuushirou bite his knuckles in a vain attempt to halt the words that Shunsui is waiting for.

Ukitake doesn't want to give in and cry out because he thinks it's an unnecessary requisite that Kyouraku places on their lovemaking, something of a rather childish game that the other captain insists on every time they meet like this.

But Shunsui has long ago perfected the art of patience when it comes to his hands on Jyuushirou's body, and several masterful touches more is all it takes before the other man needs to be held up, a desperate shout successfully wrenched from Ukitake's previously stubborn lips.

"Now," he whimpers, out of breath and hair wild on his face and neck.

It's exactly what Kyouraku's been waiting for.

Smiling secretly to himself, the eighth division captain leans forward and kisses Jyuushirou's gasping throat before murmuring, "As you wish," in the other man's ear. And then he lets go of that careful veneer of control and sinks down into the waiting warmth of Ukitake's pliant body, earning another hoarse shout from his normally taciturn companion.

Kyouraku brushes away Jyuushirou's sweat soaked hair from the back of his neck and breathes deeply, the smell of his lover's body, allowing himself to act without any inhibitions now, Ukitake crying out breathlessly beneath him as they move together.

And when Jyuushirou arches forward and calls Kyouraku's name loudly enough to wake the neighbors, Shunsui thinks that this was well worth every arduous minute of waiting.

Because the virtue of patience has never yielded a sweeter reward.

**END**


	153. Great Potential

**153.**

**Title: **Great Potential  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **HitsugayaxMatsumoto, but not _quite_. **  
Word Count:** 754  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but kind of um… strange relationship-ness.  
**Summary:** Hitsugaya's childishness isn't cute anymore.  
**Dedication:** Christine, you pedophile!  
**A/N: ** So I was watching SG-1 tonight on Sci Fi, and they played one of my favorites from the early seasons: "The Fifth Race". And the big line in that episode is all about potential, and I decided that I needed to jack it for a title. And that's all I have. Right now, I have absolutely no clue what I'm going to write about as I start this drabble. All I know is that I have my title, and whatever comes out of my fingertips after that is purely improvisational. Hopefully it'll at least be a little fun. XD

* * *

She always seems to be telling him to grow up, because as mature as he can be at certain times, he can also be a little kid just as often, rolling his eyes or sticking his tongue out, making snide little comments behind people's backs and playing pranks.

She tells him to grow up soon because most girls only like the types of guys that don't act like children all the time, because after a certain point it just isn't cute anymore.

Usually he rolls his eyes at her and tells her that yeah, he hears her, blah, blah, blah, whatever, before walking off, acting snide with her for the rest of the day.

After a while things like that in their relationship just become the norm to her, and years and years pass with no change in their dynamic, she constantly telling him to grow up because soon he'll be past the age where acting like a little boy will still be cute and he rolling his eyes and walking off in response.

But after a while, after a little while longer, she begins noticing something else about the way he responds to her taunts, how he'll saunter off instead of merely walk nowadays, a kind of swagger in his step that hadn't been there before. And while he still rolls his eyes, while he'll probably _always_ roll his eyes at her, he has this wicked little smirk on his face when he does it now, far from huffy or childish. It's a little bit sly, a little bit more mature than how she remembers him being before.

It's like he's teasing her from wherever it is that he's standing right now, the place between boyhood and manhood that's not one or the other but a little bit of both.

Matsumoto doesn't quite know what to make of it when she sees it for herself. She knows that other women, other girls, twitter amongst themselves when they see him nowadays, faces flushed slightly pink as they comment to one another about how Hitsugaya-taichou's gotten taller and how he looks stronger, how his voice is deeper and he's starting to fill out in all the right places over the course of time.

And when she hears those types of things Matsumoto has to look at her captain again, more carefully this time because she's been by his side day after day for forever now and maybe she hasn't noticed some of the things these other girls are noticing because of that.

So the next time he makes a snide comment about her monstrous breasts, she crosses her arms under them and sticks them out at him more, telling him that he needs to grow up a little because he's way past the age where acting like such a child is still cute.

When she says that he rolls his eyes at her like he always does, like he always will, but this time when he looks at her afterwards those same eyes are laughing, a playful little smirk on that wiseass mouth of his as he leans forward to look at her more closely, oddly no longer intimidated by her chest like he should be.

She nearly takes a step backwards then, and the first thing she thinks at their sudden proximity is that she doesn't remember when he grew enough for his eyes to be nose level with her, because it seems like just yesterday when she could bury his face against her breasts and tease him for being so small and cute, releasing him red-faced and embarrassed and huffy at her for making fun of his size.

He's not that small anymore all of a sudden, and she blinks incredulously at him when he leans in close after she tells him to grow up, his lips quirked upwards in that not-quite adult smile he has now as he murmurs, "I'm almost there, _fukutaichou_," all low and smug and right in her ear.

She suddenly feels her cheeks grow a little bit pink.

And then he's back in his own personal space again, turning around and swaggering off with that positively wicked expression on his face, not another word said between them.

There doesn't need to be.

Watching him go, Matsumoto feels the corners of her lips turn reflexively upwards in an answering smirk to his, because for her, the future has suddenly revealed all kinds of potential.

She thinks to herself that next few years are going to be very, very interesting.

**END**


	154. Flashes of Brilliance

**154.**

**Title: **Flashes of Brilliance  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi**  
Word Count:** 952 (wow…a lot longer than I'd planned on…)  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just some crack. ;;  
**Summary:** Who said Kenpachi was all brawn?   
**Dedication:** Greg- He said he liked Kenpachi crack. Does this even count as crack? Or is it just weird? Dunno…  
**A/N: ** Yeah, chalk this one up to SG-1 again, because Jack totally gave me the idea, loveable dense guy that he is. GOD I MISS HIM THIS SEASON.

* * *

Seireitei prided itself in having dedicated medical practitioners and brilliant research staff, resulting in a seamless melding of developmental technologies and application in the field, treatment personnel and research personnel working like a well-oiled machine to care for the shinigami who returned with battlefield wounds received in the court's never-ending war against the Hollows, the technology center creating tools and medicines for treatment and the fourth division utilizing them in concert with their reiatsu to complete the healing process.

The moments in which those two components of medical treatment in Soul Society clashed were rare if any, their record of cooperative efforts almost, almost perfect.

But there were times, anomalies really, when the two departments didn't see eye to eye, and always, those times were created and antagonized in the presence of a dangerous and frustrating entity- failure.

It so happened that on one such occasions, Zaraki Kenpachi had been called for a randomized bi-yearly physical, and grumbling, had made his way down to the fourth division's main medical facility in order to get what amounted to a required basic check-up.

He might have ignored the summons had he not had the experience several years past, of failing to meet his appointment and finding the very next day, Captain Unohana Retsu at his doorstep, smiling serenely and asking him to please pay more attention to fourth division summons as she hefted a wicked-looking thermometer in her hand.

It had not been for his mouth.

And as fearsome as Zaraki was, there were some things that were doubly as fearsome in life, he thought, that were worth heeding. Needless to say, from that day onward, he saw to it that he made his check-up appointments on time such that house-calls by fourth division staff were unnecessary.

So in conjunction with that resolution, he made his way to the treatment facility on one given day, expecting a quick in-and-out check-up as usual, only to find staffers from both the fourth division and the research and technology institute running around rather frantically, shouting at each other in whatever scientific jargon it was they used and sounding pissed as they did.

It was odd to walk in and see Unohana-taichou's usually composed headquarters immersed in such chaos, and Zaraki was tempted to use it as an excuse to skip out on his appointment, though last minute, he decided that the risk wasn't quite worth the reward.

So he sat down in the waiting room instead.

And got to watch a show.

"Your new drugs are faulty!" one fourth division shinigami exclaimed, pointing accusatorily at a taller man in a long white lab coat that identified him as research and technology staff.

"Impossible. Those new drugs have been tested thoroughly on all sorts of subjects and the results have always been positive! This facility has been using them for months now without complaint! It has to be your techniques that are failing!"

"That's even more impossible! These healing techniques have been sound for _centuries_ and…"

"Well then it's possible that the current staff is incompetent! Ukitake-taichou has been given this medicine before and his results, while slightly below average, have always been in the _positive_ direction."

"Well maybe it's this batch of drugs!" the fourth division death god shot back frantically. "Ukitake-taichou is very sick all of a sudden. We've been giving him _your_ medicines after diagnosing his symptoms but he hasn't improved! We've given him _more_ as advised, and still, nothing's happened to indicate that the medication is working!"

Kenpachi blinked as they rounded the corner, their shouts becoming incoherent with distance, though the volume subsided very little.

Shrugging to himself, the eleventh division captain continued to wait.

A good hour later, he was admitted with numerous apologies, into the check-up room, where, for the first time in a long time, someone other than Unohana-taichou was there to see to him.

The eleventh division captain snorted, eyeing the short, shifty-eyed fellow that had been left in charge of him in Unohana's stead. "Somethin' goin' on here that we should know about?" he asked, sounding a little bit annoyed at having had to wait so long. Just a little bit.

The fourth division underling, afraid for his life, just nodded sheepishly before averting his eyes from Zaraki. "Um…Ukitake-taichou is very sick," he murmured as he began to fumble through Kenpachi's paperwork. "We uh, we don't know what's wrong with him all of a sudden… the medication isn't working and he's in considerable pain. Unohana-taichou is seeing to him, which is why I'm here, but… well… there's only so much she can do for him, it seems…"

Zaraki shrugged mentally and stuck out his arm. "Wasted an hour sittin' around 'cuz of Ukitake, huh? Che. Knowin' that wimp, 's probably just somethin' he ate," the eleventh division captain scoffed as he waited for his blood to be drawn.

"I uh…I don't think it's um…I don't think it's…as simple…" the fourth division physician started, "…it…can't be that…"

He blinked.

Kenpachi blinked back.

And then the little guy ran out of the room.

Leaving Zaraki Kenpachi, fearsome leader of seireitei's legendary eleventh division, alone on the examination table, holding his arm out like some sort of idiot.

And that was how Kenpachi unwittingly saved Ukitake Jyuushirou's life, averting the fatal results that would have taken place had the fourth division continued to medicate the thirteenth division captain with drugs that created an internal allergic reaction within him when mixed with certain chemical compounds he'd ingested with his lunch.

The fourth division physicians and the research and technology staff came to their first consensus of the day when they decided that it would be best if neither captain knew about it.

**END**


	155. Domestic Violence

**155.**

**Title: **Domestic Violence  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou, Iemura**  
Word Count:** 935 (I just can't keep 'em short anymore, can I?)  
**Warning/s: **Well, spoilers for who the vice-captain and third chair of the fourth division _are_ I suppose. But other than that, nothing I can think of.  
**Summary:** Companion drabble to the arc that's thusfar ended with drabble #148 (The Next Step)- Iemura worries about young Yamada.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- because dude, that fanart was… OMG. Plus I'm stalking you now, so it's only fair that I give you your fair share of dedications for the harassment I will undoubtedly put you through. XD  
**A/N: ** I hadn't written Iemura in any of my drabbles before this one (heck, I couldn't even remember his name for a while! Thx Jen, btw… aheheh). So here he is, hopefully in character and able to provide some amusement. ;; Wow there are a lot of Bleach characters. And now that I think of it, I haven't written anything for Kaien yet either, have I? o.o SO MANY CHARACTERS. --;;

* * *

He gets the feeling that he's being interrogated somehow, two of his senpai in the fourth division chatting him up more than they ever have in the past all of a sudden, acting very friendly and asking him how his day's been, if he's getting enough sleep, if his boyfriend ever does anything more than yell at him…

Hanatarou thinks it's a little bit weird.

But they're his senpai, so he smiles shakily up at them when they ask and says his day's been fine, he's been getting as much sleep as he can, and sometimes his boyfriend rolls his eyes at him before the yelling.

They frown when he says that, looking at him rather studiously, like they're analyzing what he's saying for some sort of deeper meaning.

Kotetsu-fukutaichou smiles a little bit after a moment and pats Hanatarou on the head, assuring him that if there's ever anything that he wants to talk about, she's always there for him.

He thanks her profusely, if slightly confusedly, and assures her he will.

She, with the intention of leaving him be from there, throws a significant look at Iemura, the blonde still looking intently at Yamada.

"See?" she hisses quietly into the third seat's ear, trying to tug him away from the nervous looking Hanatarou. "I _told_ you nothing was wrong… I…"

Iemura adjusts his glasses and shrugs of Isane's arm before turning to the vice-captain and saying, "Please excuse Yamada and I for a moment, fukutaichou… I think this is something best spoken of between men," he declares imperiously, causing Hanatarou to blink.

"Eh? What…"

Isane frowns, but concedes because this is important when she thinks about it, and if Hanatarou is uncomfortable confessing such a thing in front of a woman, perhaps Iemura can get it out of him (if it's really there at all, which she's still skeptical about, really). "Very well," she allows regardless, looking at Hanatarou out of the corner of her eye with what she hopes is a supportive expression. "Yamada… again, if you need anything, feel free to speak to me at any time," the vice-captain adds before drifting off a comfortable distance away.

Iemura watches her go, and before long, drapes an arm over a very confused Hanatarou's shoulder, steering him such that their backs are to the female vice-captain. "Now Yamada…"

"Iemura-senpai…is something the matter?" Hanatarou asks, wringing his hands anxiously. "Is something going on?"

"Now don't worry Yamada…just relax. I, as your senpai, am here to discern whether anything is wrong, so have no fear…"

"Eh?"

"I'm here to figure out if anything is wrong. Now don't worry, Yamada, you know you can trust me, right?"

"Of course, senpai, but… what's…"

"Good, good. Now, I'm going to ask you some things, so please answer honestly, all right?"

"Ah… um, okay…"

"Now…does Shiba-san um…_often_ get angry with you?" he begins as gently as he can.

Hanatarou laughs sheepishly at the query. "Um, all the time," he admits, though internally, he thinks that he doesn't mind so much because Ganjyu seems to only get angry with him in a way that he never gets with any one else.

Iemura's eyes narrow at the confession, and he bends down, leaning forward so he's nose to nose with Yamada. "I see. Does Shiba-san ever hit you when he's angry like that?"

Hanatarou blinks. "Er…what?"

"You know, hit you, when he's not happy with you," Iemura reiterates impatiently.

Hanatarou blinks some more at his senpai's eagerness. "Well, sometimes when he's annoyed…G-ganjyu um… he digs his knuckles into my temple? Or…once, he um, he flicked me in the forehead? I-is that what you er, mean, senpai?"

"I _knew_ it!" Iemura exclaims, clenching his fist like he's won a prize. "All the clinical symptoms of domestic abuse were there! But Isane wouldn't believe me when I told her. How wrong she was!"

Hanatarou, bewildered, stands by nervously, wondering what Iemura-senpai is getting at, exactly. And if the older shingami is feeling all right.

"I noticed that he always seemed to be yelling at you whenever we saw you two together… and you're jumpy, nervous, anxious… you try to avoid conversation on the subject, aren't forthcoming in front of crowds, and have bags under your eyes… you've been timid and seem easily confounded… I _knew _you were displaying all the characteristics of victimization…" he explains proudly, pulling a small book from the inside of his sleeve and turning to a previously marked page.

"Ah… sen-senpai?"

"But no one else believed me, did they? They obviously need to review their case studies before we can call them competent to treat others. If they can't even diagnose a textbook case like this so easily… I mean, it's all here! It's all _written_ in the books!"

"S-senpai?"

"Really, you should be thankful for my observational skills, Yamada. Someone like you, crying out for help as you've been, would have been completely ignored by this bunch of amateurs if I hadn't been around…"

"Senpai!"

Iemura blinks at the sudden, uncharacteristic exclamation from his young charge. "Er… yes, Yamada?"

"Erm, I don't mean to um… I mean, thank you…but, well… haven't I…haven't I _always _been like this, senpai?" the little shinigami asks, big eyes looking up at the higher ranked chair in innocent confusion.

The fourth division third chair frowns. "You…" he trails off mid-thought, lifting a hand to his cheek as he turns that around in his mind for a while.

He looks at his text again.

Studies Hanatarou.

Double-checks the text.

Frowns at Hanatarou.

Shuts his book decisively.

"Right. Never mind. Carry on, Yamada."

"Ah, yessir!"

**END**


	156. The Gift of Life

**  
156.**

**Title: **theGift of Life  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxAizen**  
Word Count:** 870  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for parts of the Soul Society arc in an indirect way.  
**Summary:** Gin looks forward to his first birthday.  
**Dedication: **To all the yaoi supporters reading this- We may be heckled a lot for our preferences, but I think we win in the end anyway. ;P **  
A/N: ** So yeah, I got another review bashing the yaoi (with numerous, chronic misspellings and atrocious grammar, surprise, surprise), and it made me want to write something sort of dirty. So I wrote something sort of dirty, though I'm not quite sure how it turned out for a birthday fic (which is um, a little late, but that's just how I operate). Anyway, happy birthday, Ichimaru-sama! May you continue to rape and pillage and rape for many years to come. XD

* * *

Ichimaru Gin, when asked by his captain when his birthday was, had answered very simply, that he didn't have one.

"You have to have one, Gin, to be here. It only makes sense, doesn't it?" Aizen-taichou asked kindly from his desk, looking expectantly at his vice-captain with that overwhelming sense of calm that Ichimaru secretly admired and went to great lengths to try and disrupt.

"I'm sure I have one, but no one's bothered to tell me when it is," Gin responded without any love lost, idly watching Aizen as he finished off a letter in that flawless old man's handwriting of his before sealing it and setting it neatly to the side.

Aizen frowned a little bit at that answer, the kind captain of the fifth division obviously turning around his young vice-captain's words in his head, thinking about the younger man even as he finished his important work.

"Shall I give you a birthday then?" he asked after a moment of deliberation, regarding his subordinate with gentle eyes. "Everyone should have a special day to call their own, don't you think?"

Gin, as always, was impressed with his captain's odd sentimentality, and resting an elbow atop the back of Aizen's chair, smiled impartially. "I've done well enough without one all these years, taichou."

"Nonsense," Aizen insisted in that grandfatherly way of his, pushing the other death god, but in such a warm way that Gin didn't feel anything until he was already over the desired line. "You should have a day too, so that those who are close to you can celebrate your being here," the fifth division leader finished eloquently, a mirthful twinkle in his serene eyes.

Gin didn't have anything to say to that, an odd emotion stirring in his stomach as he unwittingly fell victim to Aizen's kindly persistence. Ichimaru might have admitted to feeling a little moved at that moment, had he known what name to tack on to the emotion the first place.

Aizen, smiling benignly, took his vice-captain's silence as capitulation to his offer, and reaching into his desk drawer, pulled out a calendar. Adjusting his glasses, he flipped through it purposefully, obviously already with a date in mind.

When he found it, he broke out into a delighted smile. "How about this?"

The young vice-captain craned his neck slightly, regarding the chosen day with no small amount of curiosity. He made an inquisitive noise in the back of his throat upon recognizing it. "The first day we met, taichou? Isn't that a little bit maudlin of you?" he asked with a delicately raised brow.

Aizen chuckled guilelessly at the half-jibe, removing his glasses and looking upwards as if momentarily lost deep in a tender memory of that day, many years ago. "Perhaps it's a _little_ sentimental," the captain conceded. "But one's birthday is supposed to mark the day one's life began, isn't it, Gin?"

Ichimaru grinned at that. "And are you suggesting that you are the one who breathed that life into me, taichou?" he questioned, taking Aizen's glasses from his hand and resting them on the fifth division captain's desk.

"Undoubtedly," Aizen responded, seizing his vice-captain's wrist firmly in one of his hands. "In either case… that date gives me a good while yet to get you a suitable gift, doesn't it?" he queried patiently, drawing a bemused vice-captain forward with a deceptively gentle tug.

"Oh, my first birthday! However will I wait all that time for it to come, taichou?"

"I'll do my best to make the interim bearable," the fifth division captain assured his underling, smiling benevolently as he pushed Gin to his knees before him.

Gin smirked back up at his captain, resting one cheek against the inside of Aizen's hakama-clad thigh. "You're very kind, taichou," he drawled, busying his hands with the ties at his commander's waist.

"And you, Gin, are very precious to me," Aizen assured the other death god tenderly, placing his hands on either side of the vice-captain's head and threading his fingers through the short, silver-white hair he found there. "Never forget that."

"Is that an order, sir?"

Aizen laughed, a warm, rich sound from deep in his chest as he smiled down at the head in his lap. "No, Gin, a request," he replied gently, fingers beginning to tug firmly at his vice-captain's hair. "_This_ is an order."

"Yes sir." Gin smiled obligingly and lowered his head, strangely docile under the older man's insistent touch.

But there was just something about gentle, wicked Aizen-taichou that did that to him.

The fifth division leader sighed softly and leaned back in his chair, hands alternately stroking and pulling his favorite pet's hair as he gazed down at his desk, regarding the date they'd agreed upon in his calendar with a speculative look in his eye.

Reaching forward for a brush, Aizen circled the chosen day, dotting the side with a heart and Gin's name.

He would have to, as promised, make it a very special day for his obedient young vice-captain.

"Now about your birthday present…" he began after a moment, looking down at the bent head in his lap with an almost fatherly tenderness, "how would you like to become a captain?"

**END**


	157. Bookworm

**157.**

**Title: **Bookworm   
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake**  
Word Count:** 265  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers  
**Summary:** A perfect day off.  
**Dedication: **the KyouxUki writers/artists that steadily grow in number. It's always great to see more love for this pairing!**  
A/N: ** Hmmm, not sure about this one, feeling kind of listless today. Think it had to do with talking to my parents about how I'd have to "stand out" at film school. I think my writing will have to improve a LOT if that's going to happen, seeing as to how I have some confidence issues with it as is. --;; But yeah, their parental pep talk wasn't so pep talky and kind of sort of increased my anxiety about the future instead, etc. etc… I'm suddenly thinking about how maybe I'm not cut out for film, since even in my own fanfiction writing, I don't really stand out. Mostly I just sort of write for my own amusement and no other reason, which, I suppose, sort of puts me in the mediocre range? But blah, blah, blah, what I'm trying to say is I think my whole nervousness about film school is kinda sucking the life out of me right now. Yarg. But yes…anyway, I'm moving on with the lotsa yaoi anyway 'cuz I got _another_ review today and this guy seriously just doesn't know when to quit.

* * *

It was one of those rare, leisurely afternoons where all the necessary elements were in their correct places, the sun shining in a clear blue sky and the birds singing in the trees, the weather warm but not hot, a gentle breeze occasionally interrupting the calm still of day. And here they were, the two of them with the whole day off and hours to spend alone together in the shade, doing whatever they most desired with no one around to interrupt.

A perfect opportunity if he'd ever seen one.

It was the kind of day dreams were made of really, and beautiful Ukitake Jyuushirou, apple of his eye, owner of his heart, other half of his soul, with his hair lightly windswept and his eyes downcast in sweet anticipation…

…was reading.

If it wasn't such a normal thing, Kyouraku might have been insulted at having to play second-fiddle to his lover's guilty-pleasure fiction addiction.

As it was, he simply removed his hat and laid his head into Jyuushirou's inviting lap, deciding to make the best of his situation by giving himself a first rate view of the other captain's expressive face.

"Na…Jyuu-chan, will you read to me?"

Ukitake, pausing in his page-turning at the dreamily uttered entreaty, looked down skeptically at his comfortably situated companion. "Would you really listen if I did?"

"To every sound of your voice," the eighth division captain solemnly swore, eyes twinkling as he smiled mirthfully at the other death god.

Ukitake sighed at the characteristic (if charming) omission, but opened his book again anyway. "I suppose that's close enough."

**END**


	158. If I Could

**158.**

**Title: **If I Could  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KomamuraxTousen (ish)**  
Word Count:** 752  
**Warning/s: **Some back story spoilers for Komamura and Tousen, but nothing major.  
**Summary:** Komamura has a wish.  
**Dedication: **hmmm… emlan, because if I recall, she seemed to like the KomaxTou stuff I've been writing lately. Thanks for the support!**  
A/N: ** Yes, the yaoi-binge of the last few fics is continuing…lightly. And my KomaxTou fascination is also ongoing, which pleases me and kind of makes me wonder about myself all at the same time.

* * *

Komamura Sajin had always yearned for some sort of normalcy in his life, wondering what it would have been like to live a life with real-boy hands and a real-boy face, to look like everyone around him such that he could walk around like anyone else, without any shame or fear.

It had been a faraway dream, and he'd come to accept that it was an impossible one as he grew older, choosing to hide the face that would never be normal in the shadows and live to the best of his ability, a regular existence from there.

For a long time, he'd let that be all he needed from life. He couldn't be ungrateful for his successes after all, everything else he'd been given was a blessing, and he knew it would be petty and dishonorable to complain about his small problems when he'd seen those who'd had to suffer worse fates than his despite their normal appearances.

In his older years, he realized that it wasn't right to expect everything from life to just fall perfectly into your lap.

And he'd believed in that realization for a long time, schooled himself into accepting the undesired aspect of his physique and all the ups and downs that came with it.

But then he'd met Tousen Kaname, who could not see his abnormal face and hands, who could not judge him for anything other than his own character even if he were to reveal his face to those unseeing eyes.

It should have been relieving in a sense, should have liberated Komamura as he'd grown closer to that wonderful, sightless man. After all, here was someone who could not prematurely hate him for his fur-covered head, his muzzled nose or his whiskered cheeks. Tousen Kaname was someone who could only judge Komamura on his own character, his own merit.

And that should have made him happy.

When Kaname wholeheartedly accepted Komamura as friend and confidante, it should have given him reason to celebrate, to maybe even accept his own physical appearance now, given his best friend's approval of his personality.

Ironically, despite his happiness at Tousen's acceptance, his close relationship with the other captain only created a breach in his carefully constructed views of life, making him, for the first time since he'd been very young, desire a human form again.

Because walking side-by-side with an unknowing Kaname made Komamura _want_ in an unbefitting manner, made him yearn for all the things that he'd before convinced himself were extraneous to living a just, honorable life.

It made him feel selfish.

Despite everything he already had, all the good-fortune life had seen fit to bestow upon him, Komamura Sajin suddenly found himself wanting more than that.

He found himself wondering what it would be like if he could remove his glove and clasp Tousen's hand warmly in his own, the feel of skin-on-skin an intimacy between humans that he could only imagine in his most distant fantasies.

He daydreamed about how it would feel to have Kaname's hands on his face, mapping out his features so that the blind man's inner eye could create an image of him, some sort of representation of Komamura burned forever into Tousen's consciousness, an eternal image of his closest friend that he could keep with him always, deep in his heart and mind.

It was a delicious, heady fantasy, the kind the seventh division captain had thought he'd long ago schooled himself away from.

It seemed however, that ever since meeting Tousen Kaname, he found himself chasing after those forbidden desires all over again, yearning endlessly like the child he'd been before he'd attained the honor and discipline that came with age.

Kaname made him want again.

And it was selfish and unreasonable, a folly of youth that he shouldn't have allowed to consume him again.

But more than all that, it was also dangerous.

Because Komamura believed that if he were offered the chance to do it, if he had to give up his _life_ to be allowed to feel it for even a single second, he would throw all his years of adult discipline and honor to the wind without a second thought. He would close his eyes and push himself forward with delicious anticipation, a thousand capitulations on his lips as he fell eagerly towards that untouchable dream.

If given the chance, he would say yes in a heartbeat.

To be a real boy for just a moment, and experience the intimacy of skin-on-skin.

**END**


	159. Cake

**159.**

**Title: **Cake  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou**  
Word Count:** 144  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers that I can think off.  
**Summary:** Hanatarou decides to make cake.  
**Dedication: **Everyone who was really sick of long drabbles. **  
A/N: ** No, this isn't a continuation of "Pie", as much as it might sound like one. Just a short ficlet in which I practice the art of paring down. Because I really need to cut down on these word counts, don't you think? I'll try. I will. But I'm just naturally longwinded. ;; This might be grueling if I try and keep it up for a long time.

* * *

Hanatarou decided that for their one month anniversary, he was going to bake Ganjyu a cake.

Unfortunately, there was no one around to tell him that it was a bad idea, considering he'd never baked before and his only notion of what cake actually was came from Kuchiki-san's uneasy recollections of home-economics class in the mortal world.

Based on her careful instructions, what he ended up with was chocolate explosion.

When Ganjyu came by at the end of the day as planned, Hanatarou, still covered in chocolate and sticky everywhere, profusely apologized for having ruined everything.

Ganjyu smiled and bent down to lick batter from his cheek, assuring Hanatarou that it was the best present he could have hoped for.

That said, he promptly tossed the little shinigami over his shoulder and headed off with the intent to clean the rest of him up.

**END **


	160. All Grown Up

**160.**

**Title: **All Grown Up  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IemuraxNanao (sort-of) and a flash of KyourakuxUkitake**  
Word Count:** 928  
**Warning/s: **Um… some spoilers for Kyouraku and Ukitake's shared backstory, but that's not a biggie, right? Also, I'm still not very good at characterizing Nanao, so this one might be a little over the top, but hey, it's all an experiment in the end, right? Yeah, what I meant was an OOC warning. ;;  
**Summary: **Random pairing crack- It's good to see two grown adults moving on with their lives after graduating from the academy.  
**Dedication: **Mel- never say that TricK never inspired me. ;; **  
A/N: ** So I was talking with Mel a few nights ago and she was talking about how Shunsui reminded her of Ueda from TricK and Nanao reminded her of Naoko. So I thought about that for a while, and while I can see that Nanao is, out of the Bleach cast, the most Naoko-ish, I think that Iemura is a lot more like Ueda (personally) than Shunsui is. And then I got this idea, which isn't really an idea so much as them yelling at each other a lot, but it makes me giggle all the same, because Iemura would _so_ piss her off. XD

* * *

Ise Nanao was generally viewed as one of the quiet types, bookish and prim, a hard worker and a professional type vice-captain, which was good considering her match to a captain as unprofessional a type as Kyouraku Shunsui.

So generally, Nanao was seen as strong willed and intelligent, no-nonsense, disciplined, and commendable in her ability to kick Shunsui to work everyday when all he wanted to do was sleep the morning (and last night's alcohol) away.

Those that really knew her also called her a little bit of a spitfire under all that propriety, scathing and sharp-tongued when provoked just so, the sort of girl only idiots pissed off on purpose.

And Iemura Yasuchika was sort of an idiot.

It harkened back all the way to their academy days, early enough in their school lives to have been before the split in technique specialization, when it was all general knowledge and a fierce competition to be accepted with honors into the next grade level.

The two top competitors in one particular class had been a young Ise and an obnoxious (also young) Iemura.

"Ha, Ise! I beat you by two points for the number one spot _again!_ What do you have to say about that?"

"The only way you could have gotten _that_ score was if you missed at least two problems but got lucky on the extra-credit by closing your eyes and making a random guess. Which I know you did. I saw you sweating and praying before you threw a hand over your eyes and circled something at the very last minute of the allotted time."

He scowled. "I still _beat_ you."

"Not on merit."

"Luck _is_ merit! It takes a sort of genius, really, to perfect that sort of art."

"So you're suggesting that you admire Madarame-san's ingenious Luck-luck dance?"

Some of their other classmates snickered at the barb.

Iemura crossed his arms. "You can quibble all you want, Ise. The fact of the matter is I _beat_ you _again_. And since that obviously proves I'm infinitely _better_ than you, I will take the moral high ground this time and ignore your shrewish barbs, pacifying myself on the knowledge that no man will ever marry such a small-breasted dragon-tongued bookworm."

That was apparently, Iemura's version of the moral high ground.

Ise, used to his arrogance, always responded to that sort of thing by reminding him that next period was battle practice, and if he wanted, he could borrow her zanpakutou since he knew the _theory_ behind manifesting them but just _couldn't_ yet, the poor late-bloomer.

He clenched his teeth and glared at her.

She smiled prettily and told him that he would one day, do the fourth division proud, because really, it was inevitable that someone with so much _theory_ and no actual battle _ability_ would be assigned there.

"You're so lucky, you'll be one of the few shinigami in seireitei who will get to know the underground sewers like the back of your hand!" she twittered with all the false demureness of a schooled socialite, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder before strolling off towards practice.

It was a petty, horrible rivalry that they always forced one another into fighting over, really. But they'd been young then after all, and most people were sure that with time and added maturity, the two would realize the folly of their points against one another and come to see that the diverse qualities each of them had would one day play important, if different roles in Soul Society and how it was run.

Everyone was sure that with the passage of time, the two of them would both grow up and learn to appreciate each other's unique and necessary dissimilarities.

"Pill-pusher!"

"School librarian!"

"Sewer-sweeper!"

"Small-chested shrew!"

"You have an awkward physique!"

"Your hair is ugly!"

Kyouraku Shunsui chuckled as Nanao stormed into the eighth division headquarters absolutely fuming, his vice-captain's murderous reiatsu rolling off of her thin frame in waves as the gates to the building were slammed closed behind her, cutting off Iemura's last string of insults with a loud, decisive bang.

"Oooh, I…. oooh! I _hate _him!" she shouted, grabbing at her hair with her free hand in frustration. "I can't _stand_ that idiot!"

"Aww… did you and Iemura-kun have another tiff, my sweet Nanao-chan?" her captain asked sweetly from the place on the floor he was currently relaxing on.

"Are you _mocking_ me, taichou?" she questioned dangerously, scowling at the not-so-innocent question from her superior officer because she didn't need _this_ now on top of everything _else_.

"Never, my sweet Nanao-chan," he assured her, not pushing for details about what Iemura-kun had said to start their argument _this _time because really, her anger was all the answer he needed.

Smiling ruefully to himself, Shunsui pulled his hat down over his face to shade his eyes from the sunlight, letting himself wax nostalgic on the long lost past of his academy time and his own follies there. He chuckled secretively as he recalled days upon days of running around like an idiot and shouting at the top of his lungs, all on the offhand chance that the cute boy with white hair who sat at the front of the class would maybe sit up and take notice of him if he were flashy enough about it.

"Honestly," he murmured at the memory, feeling like an old man for a moment as Nanao stood in the doorway raging, "you kids are just so damn cute."

She threw her book at him and stormed off.

**END**


	161. A World of Special

**161.**

**Title: **A World of Special  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division **  
Word Count:** 950 (yeah, the paring down thing lasted REAL long, didn't it:P)  
**Warning/s: **Crack, lameness and OOCness, but no spoilers that I can think of.  
**Summary:** Madarame begins to notice a pattern.  
**Dedication: **Yoshi- Welcome home! **  
A/N: ** I feel guilty for this, I do. But I was thinking about it for awhile and yeah, the eleventh div is all about the thug love right? Mostly. There is the whole…Yumichika thing. And so I guess I set out to try and explain it to myself. And got this. My mind doesn't work like a normal one, I think. --;;

* * *

It took some time, but eventually third chair Ikkaku Madarame began to notice a bunch of little things that made him start to think that maybe, just _maybe, _the eleventh division was… different.

And not just a regular different, like how the fourth division was medical squad or the second division was special ops or the twelfth division were research and tech.

Those were the big glaring kinds of different that everyone noticed.

The kind of different that Ikkaku was beginning to notice was a more…special kind of different.

It took him some time, but he thought he was beginning to see a pattern.

The eleventh division definitely wasn't made up of kidoh geniuses, like the fifth division. And they weren't built for defense like the thirteenth division guys. They didn't specialize in strategizing like the third division, and they were just no good at mid-range battle like the seventh and sixth divisions.

What the eleventh division was good at was…different.

"Oi, you wanna die?"

Madarame looked over his shoulder at the sound of a familiar voice, just in time to see one of his subordinates tilt his chin skyward and look down menacingly out of his one good eye at the poor fourth division errand-boy who'd bumped into him.

"Um…no! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" the medical shinigami exclaimed quickly, bowing at the wronged eleventh division member.

"Che… yarou… better watch where you're goin' next time or I'll cut you, ya hear?" the scar-eyed death god threatened. "Now get outta here!"

"Yes sir!" the fourth division kid simpered hastily, bowing one more time before turning around to run off.

"Yeah, you better run," scar-eye chortled, moving to kick the fleeing medical shinigami in the ass as he scurried away.

Ikkaku watched the interplay and then strode off, deep in thought. Maybe he was seeing things. Maybe it was just an anomaly, but it felt like there was some sort of pattern there, if he thought about it long and hard.

He rounded the corner in time to hear a large group's cry of amusement as he came upon five or six of his underlings crouched in a circle, throwing a pair of dice around.

"Oi… teme… that's ten bucks you owe me now, ain't it?"

"Che, shut the hell up an' roll, wouldjya?"

"You wanna die?"

"_You_ wanna die?"

"I'd like to see you try anything, yarou!"

"Oi… you two gonna play or fight? Fights are on the other side'a the buildin' remember?"

"Yeah, yeah…roll the damned dice, asshole."

Madarame wasn't _sure_ but he thought that maybe there was a pattern here.

He walked a few more feet…

… and found the fights on the other side of the building the last group had been talking about. He stood and watched for a moment, as his division's seventh chair slammed a ninth division shinigami's face into the wall with one hand while using the other to flick the ash from his still-smoking cigarette.

There was a bottle of booze tucked into his belt.

The eleventh division third chair concluded that there was _definitely_ some sort of pattern here.

And it was special. Not in the retarded way everyone else thought it was. Though one might argue about how, collectively, the eleventh division's members had the lowest exit test scores out of all other graduating academy shinigami.

But Madarame was pretty sure there was something _else_ special about them.

All of them.

His brow furrowed.

Well, all of them except for…

Later that night, he knocked on Zaraki-taichou's door, looking troubled.

"What the hell do you want?" Kenpachi asked gruffly, doing what looked like a word-puzzle game at his desk.

"Um…sorry to bother you, sir…but I wasjust thinkin' today…"

"Ain't that nice?"

Ikkaku frowned. "Sir, I think I noticed a um…a pattern when it comes to our division."

Zaraki arched a brow, pausing to look up at his third chair. "Yeah?"

"Well, our division is…_special_ without question…"

The brow dropped. "Oh. That."

"Yessir. But um…the only thing I can't figure out…"

"Mmmhmmm… Yumi, right?"

Ikkaku blinked, surprised at his captain's astuteness. "Ah, yessir."

Kenpachi scribbled something on his word-puzzle, and then held the paper back away from his face, smiling triumphantly at it. "Ha, got you, ya bastard! Che. Seven letter word for idiotic… 's gotta be dumbass." He frowned after a second. "That don't work… OI, YUMI!" the captain called, turning towards the office's side door and yelling loudly enough to make Madarame jump.

"Yes, taichou?" Yumichika called back from the next room.

"What's a seven letter word for idiotic?"

"Foolish!"

"Che…shoulda gone with dumbass, sounds better," the eleventh division leader muttered, though he penciled in Yumi's new answer anyway. "Yeah, that works." Eventually, he turned back to Ikkaku. "You were sayin'?"

"Um… well," Ikkaku motioned towards the next room with his hands. "Yumi, sir. He doesn't um…_fit."_

Zaraki snorted. "Course he doesn't. What're you…stupid or somethin'? Whyd'ya think I make him take care'a Yachiru?"

Ikkaku blinked.

About three seconds passed.

And realization dawned. "Ooooooh. It's 'cuz he's…"

"Too fruity to do anythin' perverted to her? Congrats on figurin' it out, smarty-pants," Kenpachi grunted acerbically, not bothering to look up as he continued his puzzle. "Hmmm… eight letter word for someone who's against violence? Che…dickless. 's gotta be… waitaminute… OI, YUMI!"

"Yes, taichou?"

"What's an eight letter word for someone who don't like violence?"

"Pacifist, taichou."

Zaraki grunted and shook his head, penciling in the answer. "Che. Dickless is dickless, ain't it? Don't know why they gotta make up all these other fancy words to dress up the facts."

That night, Ikkaku Madarame left his captain's office with a reinforced notion of exactly how special his division was.

**END**


	162. Animal Magnetism

**162.**

**Title: **Animal Magnetism  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **UraharaxYoruichi (actually an unquestionable ship fic with them now! FINALLY, right?)**  
Word Count:** 318  
**Warning/s: **Um, sort-of spoilers for Urahara and Yoruichi's backstory, I guess?   
**Summary:** Urahara has a lot of important questions.   
**Dedication: **Dave- because just like you can write gay, I can write straight. HA. **  
A/N: ** Because Urahara's the kind of hot that makes you want to simultaneously kick his ass and grope it. Which is sexy in a really annoying way, and I think Yoruichi's probably had to deal with it more than anyone else. Lucky her. XD

* * *

The first time he asks her what animal she thinks he would most likely transform into if he could transform into an animal too, she ignores him because she suspects he's just asking out of boredom while she has better things to do, like train. So she keeps training and leaves him sitting on the porch of her house, wondering out loud if he'd make a sexy chinchilla or a hot koala.

The second time he asks her it's in bed, and she's too content to ruin the mood by actually seriously considering his question, so she rolls off of him and grabs her pillow and hits him in the face with it before she falls asleep.

The third time he asks her, it's in the middle of a big battle and she's surrounded by enemies, doing her best to concentrate on the fight and not stop her hollow slaughter to go over to where he is and start some Kisuke slaughter, though she wants to, with the way he's smirking as he simultaneously lays waste and muses philosophically, somehow making the two things seem indispensable of one another as he's doing them.

So she just grits her teeth and calls back that maybe he'd make a good duck.

That said, she goes back to battling while he fights nearby, pondering as he slaughters, what it is about his personality that would make a good duck.

Later, when they're both tired and covered in blood that's not their own, he asks her what _kind_ of duck.

Somehow, she musters up the energy to begin the long overdue Kisuke slaughter after all.

That evening, after they're both bathed and treated and fed, she lies beside him in the dark of his room and suddenly finds herself saying, "Maybe a wood duck."

She realizes she only has herself to blame when he rolls onto his side and asks her, "Why?"

**END**


	163. Duty Bound

**163.**

**Title: **Duty Bound  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Hitsugaya, Matsumoto, Renji being an idiot**  
Word Count:** 252  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 195  
**Summary:** New surroundings mean new uniforms for the shinigami of the tenth division.  
**Dedication: **JaB- YOUR BOOBS ARE HUGE YO.**  
A/N: ** Jumping the bandwagon here and writing a Ch-195 ficlet… I think I'm a world of lame tho. O.o

* * *

Hitsugaya Toushirou looked at his vice-captain appraisingly as she declared she was _finally_ dressed for the mission, and after much trial and tribulation the blonde stalked out of the room she had been changing in to meet her captain.

"Sorry for the wait, taichou. But I'm ready now."

Toushirou arched an eyebrow at her assertion and decided that while these human "school uniforms" were more troublesome for everyone than their usual shinigami uniforms, they seemed to have given his vice-captain an ill-fitting set on top of that. "Are you certain you're ready?" he asked carefully, eyeing her chest, which appeared as if it could explode out of its too-small confines at any moment.

"I said so, didn't I?" she asked breathlessly, looking annoyed and taking a step forward.

He took a step back, out of explosion range, and crossed his arms expectantly. "Matsumoto…"

"What?"

"Would you please raise your hands above your head?"

She hesitated. "Both of them?"

"Yes."

"I don't…:"

"Do I have to make it an order?"

She sighed and lifted her arms.

The expected explosion had the tenth division captain ducking the trajectory of the red bow and one ill-fated button.

A beat.

And then he cleared his throat, calmly averting his eyes. "Um, fukutaichou..."

"Ah…yessir?"

"I think I know now, what that contraption we previously identified as the eye-protection strap is actually supposed to um…strap."

"Sir?"

Another beat.

"Ooooh. That's for…"

He nodded. "I will um, inform Abarai to remove it from his head."

"Ah, thank you sir."

**END**


	164. The Devil Builds a Robot

**164.**

**Title: **The Devil Builds a Robot  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Gin, Kira**  
Word Count:** 507  
**Warning/s: **Erm, vague, vague Soul Society Arc spoilers.  
**Summary:** Gin+GundamOTP.   
**Dedication: **Francis- because his birthday was a while ago and I didn't write anything for him then…;;**  
A/N: ** So a stolen line from a season 5 episode of Angel. It amused me. Yeah. I don't really know either.

* * *

Ichimaru had of late, been enamored of something he had picked up in the human world called "Gundams," and had spent the last day and a half building what looked to be a small plastic man with strange angular growths all over his body.

Kira, unsuccessfully, had spent the entire time Gin had been occupied desperately trying to convince his captain to hurry and finish his strange plastic man so that they could get to work again, the stacks of paper in the third division headquarters having grown to monstrous proportions.

Gin simply clucked at his vice-captain in his best chiding tone, saying, "Izuru-chan, these things can't be rushed, ne?"

Kira looked at the toy and said that all the pieces had a set place and could be attached to them much faster than the speed Gin was attaching them, the smiling captain humming to himself as he painstakingly laid and added color to each piece, creating his model from the ground up at the speed plants grow.

"Taichou…please, we need to hurry and get this work done, so if you could urm, either pause in your building or finish it much more quickly…"

"Tch, Izu-chan… it's best to do things carefully when you've only got once chance of doing them right, don't you think?"

"W-well, yes, sir, but um… but…"

"Look, isn't it much sturdier if I glue it instead of just throwing it together? And I like the way I can paint it exactly how I want if I ignore the little stickers they gave me… it's much more well thought out this way, isn't it?"

Kira blinked, looking over his captain's shoulder at the strange human-made device. "Um…it's very nice, sir," he admitted with some reluctance, clutching a sheaf of very important papers to his chest. "But we really need to get these things done fast…"

"Life can't be rushed, Kira," Gin chastised warmly, adding another layer of paint to his model; one downward stroke every three seconds. "If you rush these carefully laid out things, they tend to fall apart much quicker," he added with an almost paternal tone—an obvious attempt to soothe the flustered blonde. "It's all about who has the most patience, you see?"

"Y-yes, but, sir…"

"This could take me years to finish, really," Gin added with a hint of wicked teasing, leaning back to study his handiwork thus far. "But even so, I know it will work beautifully in the end. Every piece perfect in its place and looking exactly how I want it to, ne?"

Kira felt oddly ill in his stomach at the prospect of that, and with sad eyes locked onto the menacing looking humanoid plastic _thing_, he couldn't help but wonder…

"Ah, sir… who um, who _gave_ that to you?"

Gin stayed his hand from its work at the inquiry, pausing to turn and look at his vice-captain appraisingly. "Why do you ask, Kira-kun?"

The blonde swallowed inexplicably. "Um, I um, just curious, I suppose, sir."

Ichimaru's smile broadened. "Aizen-taichou gave it to me."

**END**


	165. Spoiled

**165.**

**Title: **Spoiled  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, Ikkaku, Iba, Renji, Kira**  
Word Count:** 489  
**Warning/s: **Weird lameness and some OOCness, but not really any spoilers. y  
**Summary:** Shuuhei enlists the help of his friends for Yumichika's big day.  
**Dedication: **aslah- I got the postcards today, THANKS SO MUCH AGAIN!  
**A/N: ** So…happy birthday belated b-day, Yumi! I'm a world of lame lately, btw. --;;

* * *

"You spoil him." 

Shuuhei frowned. "I do not."

"Do too," Ikkaku shot back over the rim of his drink.

"Do _not_," Shuuhei insisted stubbornly, though he couldn't really look Ikkaku in the eye right now.

"_Do too_."

Shuuhei scowled at the other man's persistence. "Well…it's his birthday!" he protested.

"Yeah, okay. Hey… when's that life-size ice-sculpture of him supposed to get here today?"

"Oh shut up." Pause. "Three. I think."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too."

Shuuhei ignored him. "Little to the left, Renji!" he called out, tilting his head just so.

"If I go any more to the left I'm gonna freakin' fall off the ladder, senpai!"

"Um… just a _little_ to the left?"

Renji grunted and tried for it anyway, adjusting his hold on the corner of the enormous "HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUMICHIKA!" banner and leaning just a little more forward while Kira worriedly braced the ladder for him on the floor.

"There… how's that? ACK."

Everyone winced as Renji tumbled off of the ladder.

"Um, that's good!" Shuuhei assured him.

"This is uncool. This is so uncool," Iba grumped from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, some distance away weaving fresh-cut lowers into chains that would later be strung from the white tablecloths. "It's a party! Why the hell does there gotta be _flowers_? In _chains_? I feel like a freakin' fairy."

"Look like one too," Ikkaku added helpfully.

Iba glared at both he and Shuuhei. "Why are we doing this again?"

"I uh, bribed you all with lots of free alcohol?"

Iba paused. "Oh yeah." He went back to the flowers.

Shuuhei felt as if the atmosphere was growing a tad bit hostile. It might have been Abarai glaring at him from the floor as Kira placed an ice pack on his bruised shoulder.

Maybe asking him to hang the glass balls and paper lanterns from the ceiling right now would be a bad idea.

He cleared his throat and checked the time.

Great.

"Uh… keep up the good work guys, I need to go get the ice-sculpture now alright? Gotta make sure it looks just like Yumi but um, not _better_ than him," Shuuhei explained (though he was a bit confused about that part himself) before he beat a hasty withdrawal out of the room.

On seeing Hisagi's retreating back, Ikkaku cupped his mouth and called out, "SPOIL!"

"NOT!" echoed back through the hallways to the laborers and flower-chains.

Left to their own devices, said laborers all sat silently by and wondered if now would be the best time to beat a quick retreat themselves and leave Shuuhei to his own grand ballroom schemes and very gay flowers.

Ikkaku sighed after a moment and set his drink down, heading over to join Iba to aid in the flower-weaving. It _was_ Yumi's birthday, after all.

"There better be a hell of a lot of alcohol tonight."

Everyone grunted in agreement and went back to work.

**END**


	166. Reason for Living

**166.**

**Title: **Reason for Living  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake **  
Word Count:** 663  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers save for commentary on Ukitake's health, I suppose. O.o   
**Summary:** Kyouraku wants to give Ukitake a reason to live.   
**Dedication: **Ann- because it was her birthday a few days ago and I'm LATE FOR THAT TOO. XD**  
A/N: ** I dunno, I kind of just wrote this as it came… might kind of make Ukitake seem like an asshole or something… o.o I'm still food coma-y from lunch so it's all fuzzy on how I'm interpreting my own stuff right now. deep breath Just keep writin'… Wanna get to 200 before school starts again, dammit!

* * *

Sometimes he's convinced he'll spend all of eternity dying.

And that Kyouraku has spent all of eternity worrying about it.

Shunsui's way of showing concern for Jyuushirou's health is unconventional of course, but the white-haired captain has known his companion for so long now that it's easy for him to tell that the other man has his worries, and that more specifically, he's not afraid of Jyuushirou's death so much as his surrender to it.

Because sometimes, on days when Ukitake coughs so much or feels so weak that he can't move, he thinks that maybe it would be better if he just let himself go and hope that the next incarnation will be blessed with better health.

It's always just a passing thought, something he wonders about when he's bedridden and unable to sleep. The thought is always gone just as quickly as it comes, and while he knows for certain that he would never simply just _die_, Shunsui is concerned enough about those fleeting thoughts he sometimes has to smile beseechingly at the white-haired captain as he hovers by Jyuushirou's sickbed on his off time, talking incessantly of all the wonders he's seen today and that the moment Jyuu-chan gets better, he'll take him to see them too.

Ukitake knows that Kyouraku is always trying to give him a reason to live.

He'll stroll in bearing fresh fruit and a thousand unbelievable stories ready to go, sitting down next to recovering Jyuushirou's bedside and regaling him with every single one while he peels apples for them both, a grand smile on his face that only Ukitake can see the lines of worry in.

They sit together for hours and hours on those days and Jyuushirou listens to Shunsui's tall tales with his own small smile, knowing inside that Kyouraku's trying to give him an incentive to keep going without knowing that there's motivation enough for Ukitake right there.

Maybe one day, Ukitake will tell Kyouraku that the other man is all the reason he'll ever need to live. It would ease some of Shunsui's worries, and Ukitake thinks that it would mean that Shunsui wouldn't have to go out of his way so often, that Jyuushirou would be dragged outside for fewer walks in fields of flowers or secret hideouts or sparkling swimming holes on those days just after his latest recovery.

Maybe one day, Ukitake will sit Shunsui down and take his hand and let the other man know that despite those fleeting thoughts of death, he's not going to just give up and die anytime soon, no matter how much pain he may be in, because as long as Kyouraku is alive he has a reason to stay in this world because no one else has quite the patience to deal with the other captain's antics.

If he just went ahead and did it, Jyuushirou knows it would mean less over-the-top exclamations of how beautiful everything is, how good food tastes or how wonderful springtime rain smells. It would mean less of being whisked away from his desk when he's working to run around a little in the sunshine or share an evening drink or climb a tree or go eat dangerously oily street-vendor fare in Rukongai before playing with the nearest batch of curious children.

If he just let Shunsui know that he felt he already had all the reason in the world to live right there in the other man, it would mean his lover wouldn't have to try so hard all the time to find all those new reasons.

But Ukitake is pretty sure all those things are exactly why he hasn't told Shunsui a thing yet.

So instead, he sits in his recovery bed with his hands folded in his lap and waits for Kyouraku to burst through the doors with an armful of fruit and a thousand and one tales to tell him.

And as he waits, Ukitake thinks he's never felt more alive.

**END**


	167. A Matter of Succession

**167.**

**Title: **A Matter of Succession  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division**  
Word Count:** 457  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 195 and rampant lameness here.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi's got a skewed version of succession rites in the human world.  
**Dedication: **Sarah- thanks for lunch today! Sorry about being sleepy and DEAF. **  
A/N: ** I dunno. I really, I just dunno. Something is OFF with me a lot lately… o.o But hopefully I'll work through it soon if I just keep on writin' yeah? Yeah. Maybe. I dunno.

* * *

Kenpachi watched as his two subordinates prepared for their mission, scowling furiously as he did.

"Aw, we won't be gone that long taichou, promise!" Ayasekawa stated, smiling at his captain as he neatly folded the new uniform that had been issued to him today.

Ikkaku grinned. "We'll be sure'n write everyday, taichou."

Kenpachi's scowl deepened. "Dumbasses. I ain't gonna miss you."

Ayasekawa smiled back indignantly. "Of course not, taichou, because we won't be gone that long!"

"Shut up! I'm pissed 'cuz I don't see why you two idiots get to go and I don't! I wanna fight Ichigo!"

"Um…no offense or nothin' sir, but ya don't really look like a high school student," Ikkaku explained patiently. "It'd just be weird."

Kenpachi frowned. "Well uh… I could be a teacher or somethin'. Yeah." Pause. "They got those, don't they?"

Ikkaku blinked. "I uh, I guess that'd work."

An unholy light began to creep into the captain's previously glaring eye. "Yeah…a teacher or somethin'…"

"But do you actually know a school subject well enough to teach it?" Yumichika posed pragmatically.

The eleventh division captain wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. "Um…" He scowled. "Dammit."

"How about gym?" Ikkaku suggested hastily upon seeing the downturn in his captain's spirits. "Right? Right? Ya just make 'em run a lot, right, taichou? You're good at gettin' people to run. Away."

Kenpachi grinned. "Yeah I am."

"Yamamoto-soutaichou informed us that there weren't any current staff openings, or we'd send more people, remember?" the fifth chair pointed out. "So they already have a gym teacher."

Kenpachi's eye flashed. "That so?"

"It is, sir."

"Well that's easy enough!" the captain announced eagerly. "Means all I gotta do is kill him and take his jacket, right?"

Both lower-ranked shinigami blinked. "Er, what?"

Zaraki grinned maniacally and indicated his white jacket. "I just gotta kill the bastard and take his coat. Then I get his job. Pieceacake."

Ikkaku and Ayasekawa looked at each other for a minute.

Both sighed.

"So… you want this one?"

"Is it my turn already?"

"Hey, last time I had to explain 'bout why chicks can bleed for five days'n not die and guys can't."

Yumi sighed and paused in his activities, laying his uniform down and patting his captain on the back. "Taichou…why don't you come with me for a little bit? I'll make some tea and we can sit down and have a nice chat."

Zaraki blinked. "Chat? 'bout what?"

Ayasekawa smiled indulgently. "All sorts of fun things, taichou. I'll make up a tray of those little flower cookies you like so much!"

Kenpachi looked at his subordinate hesitantly. "The uh, the ones with the jam in the middle?"

"Of course, sir."

"Uh yeah, I guess that'd be okay then."

"Now…about your jacket…"

**END**


	168. Bad Boys

**168.**

**Title: **Bad Boys   
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Kenpachi, Ikkaku, sort-of-not-really KenpachixGin in a cracked out indirect way. **  
Word Count:** 464  
**Warning/s: **OOCness and random fruit cups appearing in seireitei. Leave me alone. :P  
**Summary:** Ikkaku asks why the chicks dig Gin. Kenpachi answers.  
**Dedication: **antiparallel- dude, the Hana fanart was OMGYES and so I owe you a billion thank yous and a bunch of dedications (and stalking… lots of that). XD **  
A/N: ** I was just thinking about how everyone (myself included) just thinks Gin is so bad-ass sexy despite the whole being evil thing. And then I sort of wondered why. And then I tried to answer my own question by writing about it, but the fruit cup got in the way and I forgot what I was trying to do. Aheh. --;;

* * *

"Okay, Hisagi I get. The girls think he's hot, so of course. That's not anythin' weird or anythin'…girls likin' hot guys. Right?"

Kenpachi, pausing from trying to dig out the peach chunk in his fruit cup and avoid the thrice-cursed mushy green grape, blinked at his third-chair. "Somethin' you tryin' to tell me here, Ikkaku?"

Madarame frowned at the tone. "Ain't nothin' like that taichou! I'm just wonderin,' ya know? The chicks seem to dig Hisagi, and I guess the guy's cool lookin', so it makes sense. What I don't really get is…" He motioned vaguely with his hand to the other side of the quad, where Mastumoto chatted cheerfully with an eerily smiling Ichimaru Gin.

Kenpachi's brow furrowed. "You don't get talking?"

The third chair scowled at his captain's obtuseness. "Che. No. What I don't get is why a lotta the girls like Ichimaru-taichou too. Ain't he a little bit creepy?"

Kenpachi shrugged noncommittally and picked up the mushy grape that was thwarting his peach excavation efforts, frowning at it before dropping it on the ground. "Some chicks like that, I guess," he grunted absently, eyeing his long sought after produce like a wolf closing in on its prey.

"Still don't make sense. There's just somethin' 'bout Ichimaru-taichou that don't sit right with normal people, ya know? Somethin' about him that scares you, I guess."

Kenpachi's one eye paused in its peach-stalking and roved over the third chair for a moment before the captain flashed a shark-toothed grin at his subordinate. "Don't have a clue what you're talkin' about," he responded.

Ikkaku didn't appreciate the fact that his captain decided to, on occasion; display a strangely ironic sense of humor.

Without really getting that he was.

Ikkaku sighed in frustration. "Look, what I'm tryin' to say, taichou, is that Ichimaru-taichou just seems like the kinda guy that likes the weird things, ya know? Cuttin' and blood and blood-_lickin_', and generally creepy stuff like that."

Kenpachi glared. "What's wrong with cuttin' and blood?"

Ikkaku realized a little too late that maybe he was asking the wrong person about all of this.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind. I just don't get it, 's all. Guy like that, shouldn't be so popular with the ladies, if you ask me."

Kenpachi shrugged and speared his coveted peach slice. "Why the hell not?" he snorted, chomping down on the fruit. "Some girls like the manly stuff. They ain't all squeamish like other girls, ya know?" the captain started around the food in his mouth. "Blood and cutting and fun things like that. Hard to find someone who can enjoy that stuff and still look good doin' it."

Pause.

"Hell… I'd do 'im."

Ikkaku stared at his captain for a moment.

"Just eat your fruit cup, sir."

**END **


	169. My Hero

**169.**

**Title: **My Hero  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** RyuukenxLady Ishida (?)  
**Word Count:** 613  
**Warning/s: **Not spoilers so much as rampant speculation into Ryuuken's past. MEGA suspension of disbelief required here.  
**Summary:** She always said he was a hero.  
**Dedication: ** fallofrain- parents are the most amazing people in the world, aren't they?**  
A/N: ** Kind of a rushed story, but one that wouldn't leave me alone anyway… I know, all my Ryuuken fics sounds the same but I kind of wondered about Ishida's mom so here we are.

* * *

She'd smiled at him and told him he was a hero, reaching up to touch his face whenever it looked like he wanted to apologize to her a thousand times for not being _her_ hero.

But she never let him, shushed him with her tired hands and kissed his cheek, let him rest his head on her shoulder and told him he was a hero and that she was the wife of a hero and that made her happy.

She touched her stomach and said that she and the baby were both proud that papa was a hero, someone who went out at night and saved people's souls from the Hollows, he, the only son of the last Quincy house.

Even as she said those things he only wanted to apologize more, to bow his head in shame and take her away from their dirty little apartment and her three jobs and his medical school bills and the long nights where he left her alone in their bed carrying their child and worrying about whether he was still alive or not.

But she always called him a hero and touched his face and told him that she and baby both, were so very, very proud.

The day Uryuu was born was the day Ryuuken gained a son and lost a wife.

She was too weak, the doctors said, too weak and very sad as she fought for her son and knew that she'd be too tired afterwards to fight for herself as well.

Her last words had been for Ryuuken to take care of Uryuu.

Her two men, her heroes.

Ryuuken had not been there.

He'd rushed in after hours of battling monsters like the hero she always called him, and found then, only a squalling baby and the knowledge that in all his efforts to save the dead, he'd lost the one thing that made him feel alive.

A hero to everyone except the only one that mattered.

Several days after the funeral, he left his son in his father's arms and his Quincy clothing in the closet.

He donned a suit and a tie and finished medical school. He got a job at a local hospital and stopped believing in heroes.

He worked hard all day and stayed in at night and when he heard the sounds of the Hollows bellowing in the city he bent his head to his desk and used fingers that had once drawn a bow to save souls to write prescriptions instead.

His hard work paid off and he opened his own clinic, bought a big house and all the luxuries he'd promised to buy her one day, when they'd dreamed together of him becoming a doctor and making enough money. He made it so his son was well provided for, made it so Uryuu could go to school and come home and eat and never have to take three jobs at one time just to survive.

And though he would never forget how she'd smiled at him in the quiet dark of their dingy two-room apartment a lifetime ago, or how she would always touch his face whenever she told him how proud she was to be the wife of a hero, he'd realized, after that first time he'd held his newborn son without her there, that he'd only ever wanted to be her hero and no one else's.

With baby Uryuu in his arms, Ryuuken had decided that it was time to fix his mistakes.

And while it had been too late for him to be a husband, there had still time left to become a father.

There was no room for heroes anymore.

**END**


	170. Self Expression

**170.**

**Title: **Self-Expression  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Implied ShuuheixYumichika, Iba  
**Word Count:** 93 (OMG I don't believe)  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just…guy speak.   
**Summary:** Shuuhei tries poetry.  
**Dedication: **Greg- who writes EXCELLENT haiku. XD  
**A/N: **I don't know, I thought that Shuuhei and poetry would be funny. GUESS THAT DIDN'T WORK.

* * *

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Poetry." Pause. "I think."

Iba blinked. "Er…why?"

Shuuhei shrugged noncommittally. "Dunno. Yumi said I should try it 'cuz I don't communicate well."

"I… see." The other vice-captain stared at Hisagi's work over his shoulder. Tilted his head left. "Um…" Tilted his head right. "Hurm." Squinted.

Hisagi sighed. "Yeah."

They stared at it together for a while.

"So… how's this supposed to help you communicate better, exactly?"

"Dunno."

Iba stood back and looked at Shuuhei appraisingly. "It workin'?" he posed carefully.

"Dunno."

"Guess not then."

"What's _that _supposed to mean?"

"Er, nothin'."

**END**


	171. Possessed

**171.**

**Title: **Possessed  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** GanjyuxHanatarou, Kuukaku, Kaien  
**Word Count:** 433  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for um, the part in the SS arc about Kaien. Yeah.  
**Summary:** Ganjyu follows in his brother's footsteps.  
**Dedication: **errr… how about Tiff, for her very belated b-day? ;;  
**A/N: **I honestly hate how I ended this. Ah well… tried my best? --;;

* * *

She remembers the first time their niisan came home after he fell in love, talking nonstop and walking on air, different enough from his everyday self to frighten young Ganjyu a little, to have the youngest Shiba sneak into his neesan's room that night and ask in a quietly scared voice, if niisan was sick or possessed or an evil look-alike that killed the original Kaien and decided to take over the rest of his life.

Kuukaku hadn't been able to explain very well at the time, that niisan was in love and that it would make him very strange for a long while, so instead, she assured young Ganjyu that while niisan was sort-of possessed, it wasn't by anything that should cause either of them any worry. And then she'd shoved the youngest Shiba off to bed with the promise that he would understand himself one day when he was older.

So years later, when Ganjyu comes home that one prophesied day with his feet meters off the ground and the stupidest look on his face, Shiba Kuukaku simply grins and smokes her pipe and shakes her head, because she knows that from here on out her little brother isn't hers anymore and the next few weeks are going to be filled with "Hana's favorite color is this" and "Hana's favorite food is this" and a thousand other things under the sun that she doesn't particularly need to know herself and will probably end up creaming Ganjyu over the head for annoying her with every waking moment the two of them are under the same roof.

It's all almost exactly the same, and with a wry smile, she tells Kaien exactly that when she's by herself that evening, burning incense for her dead niisan and drinking sake enough for the both of them.

"The little idiot's gone and gotten himself possessed," she says wryly, toasting the sky and the first idiot Shiba who had walked that very same path many years ago.

The stars twinkle back down at her and she's sure she can hear Kaien's laughter in it.

Knocking back the rest of her sake, she promptly flips the sky off, and says, "I'll let you know when they set a date, niisan."

That done, she turns around and goes back into the house, ready to face the next round of Ganjyu-won't-shut-up with her pipe ready at a moment's notice to be converted into a handy dandy head-thunking device.

She manages to comfort herself with the fact that this is definitely the last time she'll ever have to go through this.

**END**


	172. True Friendship

**172.**

**Title: **True Friendship  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Renji, Kira, Iba, Ikkaku, Shuuhei (THUG LOVE)  
**Word Count:** 259  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of. ;;  
**Summary:** Renji thinks that maybe it's time to find some new friends.  
**Dedication: **antiparallel for the promise of an lj layout. TRUE FRIENDSHIP (You know, the kind where I STALK you. cough)  
**A/N: **Spending lots of time with my own friends this week before school starts… antics, oh the antics. --;;

* * *

Sometimes Renji thinks that it would be in his best interest to find himself some new friends.

This is one of those times.

And as he sits by and ponders how he's going to carry Kira home without getting vomited on, keep Iba and Ikkaku from suffocating themselves with their underwear on their heads, and at the same time, shut Shuuhei and his random improvisational poetry up before his caterwauling wakes the entire neighborhood, the sixth division vice-captain thinks to himself that maybe he should learn how to perform a proper tea ceremony and go hang out at the Kuchiki households on his Friday nights from now on instead.

But then he remembers that next week, _he's_ not going to be the designated caretaker and one of these idiots _is, _and as a result, he can get as shit-faced as he wants without having to worry about a thing.

So he sighs to himself and hauls Kira up over his shoulder though he may get vomited on, pulls Iba and Ikkaku's unmentionables from their heads, and distracts Shuuhei with something shiny from his pocket, knowing that this same time next week, he can count on any of these other guys to do the same for him should he need it.

So, he supposes, maybe the friends he's got now aren't such bad ones after all, despite being idiots.

And truth be told, Renji knows he's pretty much stuck with them anyway, 'cuz hell if he'd ever be able to figure out a damned tea ceremony in the first place.

**END**


	173. High School Athletics

**173.**

**Title: **High School Athletics  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Chad  
**Word Count:** 266  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but some raging speculation on my part, I suppose. O.o  
**Summary:** Sado Yasutora: Athlete extraordinaire.  
**Dedication: **Greg- he asked for the theme "sports."  
**A/N: **So Chad had a guitar on his back in one episode or another, right? This is my sort-of attempt to write why a big guy like him chose music when he would have KICKED ASS at sports. Yes.

* * *

Sado Yasutora had at one point, tried extra-circular activities in order to expand his horizons and avoid the inevitable after-school fights he would often get corralled into after school for being as different as he was in a world where most everyone looked the same.

He'd tried boxing first.

That had been a bad idea.

When he left, everyone agreed that it was for the best, given that no one had really wanted to practice sparring with him anyway.

Next, he tried basketball.

The first game he got possession of the ball when he'd planted himself and the player from the other team had run into him and earned an illegal charging foul, but when that boy had to be carried off the court on a stretcher, Sado supposed that the death of his young basketball career was an inevitable and necessary follow up. The coach wept at his resignation, but Sado suspected that the rest of the team was relieved at not having to practice with him anymore.

After that it had been baseball, football, ping pong, and tennis in that order, but the amount of broken equipment and injured teammates never stopped piling regardless of how non-contact the sports became, and after the tenth tennis ball through a window in one practice, Sado finally decided that maybe guys like him just weren't cut out for sports in the first place.

That was about the time his tennis coach thrust a guitar at him and told him to become a musician.

The man had told him that at least that way, he'd only be _self_-destructive.

**END**


	174. My Fourth Grade Crush

**174.**

**Title: **My Fourth-Grade Crush  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** IsshinxRyuuken, implied IchigoxIshida  
**Word Count:** 205  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of?  
**Summary:** Isshin is seriously, five years old.  
**Dedication: **laliho- because your IsshinxRyuuken crack is THE BEST.  
**A/N: **Okay, I realize a lot of the scenarios are rather improbable here, but it was FUN to write so that's all the motivation I needed. Plus, Greg said the words "shenanigans" when I asked for a theme and Isshin was the first character to pop into my head. --;;

* * *

Ichigo knew his dad well enough to know that if he ever had a crush on anyone, he'd show it in the most childish manner possible and with no visible shame or hesitation in any of his outlandish acts.

So when Isshin started pulling Ishida Ryuuken's hair and flicking little balls of paper at the other doctor's head whenever they were around each other, Ichigo began to suspect that Isshin _liked_ Ryuuken a little.

When Isshin mysteriously disappeared from the clinic during his lunch breaks and came back with pocketfuls of pens that read "Ishida Clinic" on them, Ichigo decided that maybe it was a little bit more than just _like_.

By the time Isshin was stealing the Ishidas' mail on a daily basis and Ichigo was forced to return it to the Quincy at school on the mornings following, he was convinced that maybe his dad was like, in _love_ or something.

When he explained the whole situation to Uryuu, the bespectacled boy had blinked in confusion and stated rather dryly, that the Kurosaki family obviously had skewed ways of showing their affection, though he supposed that the whole thing shouldn't have come as a surprise at all.

Ichigo punched him in the arm.

**END**


	175. Hypothetical

**175.**

**Title: **Hypothetical   
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Kenpachi, Soi Fong  
**Word Count:** 413  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers (sort of) for the Soul Society arc in Bleach and the post-Chuunin exam arc in Naruto  
**Summary:** Continuation of the arc that most recently ended with drabble #131 ("The Fourth Step")- Kenpachi and Soi Fong ponder the ultimate crossover.  
**Dedication: **My otaku buddies at JAC. BECAUSE WE'VE HAD THESE CONVERSATIONS.  
**A/N: **Honestly, honestly, I can't explain myself here at all. At all.

* * *

"Erm… me versus Kakashi."

Soi Fong frowned. "What's the basis behind your match up?"

"We uh, we both got one eye covered?"

She snorted. "Then you'd just as well fight Gai-sensei on the basis of horrific haircuts."

Kenpachi frowned. "Hey. Just answer the damn question, would ya?"

"You."

The eleventh division captain grinned. "Really?"

"Do you not think you could?" she asked, arching a brow at the pleased question from him. "Or are you merely fishing for meaningless compliments?"

Kenpachi stopped grinning. "'Course I'd beat him. Never mind then. Your turn."

"Yamamoto-soutaichou versus Sandaime Hokage."

Zaraki furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "Think I'd have to go with shitty old man on this one. How 'bout you?"

"Agreed. Yamamoto is visibly more formidable and carries a large stick."

"Hurm…my turn again, huh? How 'bout… you versus Tenten?"

Soi Fong's eyes blazed. "I should kill you for even asking that."

"Yeah, stupid question I guess. Huh… how 'bout… Kyouraku versus Shikamaru?"

That earned another snort from the second division captain. "They'd both fall asleep before battle could even commence."

"Well, yeah, I guess so. Er, how 'bout Kurostuchi versus Orochimaru, then?"

The shorter captain smirked. "That's a bit unfair. Orochimaru doesn't have fully functional arms and Kurotsuchi has robots."

"Yeah, okay, I'm bad at this," Zaraki admitted with a glare. "Your turn."

"Abarai-fukutaichou versus Kisame."

Kenpachi sipped his alcohol thoughtfully for a moment. "Kisame."

"Really?"

"Abarai's too pretty to beat a fella that looks like a shark if ya ask me."

"I suppose I'll have to agree on that point. Your turn again."

"Hmmm… letsee… Unohana versus Tsunade?"

Pause.

"Unohana," they agreed simultaneously.

"How about Itachi versus Aizen-taichou?"

Zaraki made a face. "Tough call…both of 'em fuck up your perception or whatever." He thought about it hard. "Nah, can't decide proper."

Soi Fong had to admit that she couldn't either.

"Jiraiya versus Urahara?"

The second division captain snorted derisively. "They'd become fast friends, get drunk together, and hit on girls twenty years their juniors before passing out in a puddle of their own drool in some nondescript back-alley dive."

"Yeah. Okay, I guess I could maybe see that." He knocked back another cup of sake. "Your turn again."

Soi Fong shrugged after thinking it through for a minute. "I can't think of any more."

"Erm… how 'bout me versus Ippo?"

She crossed her arms. "You're just fishing for victory again. And on top of it all, that battle is irrelevant to the current conversation."

"Che. Damn."

**END**


	176. Left Behind

**176.**

**Title: **Left Behind  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 357  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 195.  
**Summary:** Yumichika prepares  
**Dedication: **Issei- who needs to wear a skirt for yaoi con and make us some MONEY.  
**A/N: **I just thought that Yumi would look better in the girls' outfit than the guys'. XD

* * *

"Personally, I think I'd look cuter in the skirt," Yumichika lamented, looking down at his gray slacks with an air of distaste regarding their absolute lack of flair whatsoever.

Shuuhei perked up at the sound of that. "They gave you a skirt too?"

Yumi pouted. "_No._ Not even when I asked."

Hisagi grinned. "You'da looked better in the skirt," he agreed readily. "It really have a little red bow?"

Yumi chuckled. "Yup."

"Hmmm… all wrapped up like a present," Shuuhei mused aloud, mind drifting off elsewhere for a moment.

Yumi indulged his lover because he'd be gone for an indeterminate amount of time on this mission and if Shuuhei imagining him in a tiny skirt with a bow was what made the other man happy, then Yumi wasn't going to begrudge him that.

As if reading his thoughts, Shuuhei latched on to Yumichika as the shinigami-turned-schoolboy finished off the last button of his white shirt, the vice-captain pulling the other man into his lap and burying his nose into his lover's hair. "Don't go."

"Come with me."

"Can't… ninth division is a mess."

"And I can't stay either, love. Work, work, work, right?"

"You're going for a long time." If it were under any other circumstances, Shuuhei would have been horrified at the distinct whine that crept into his voice. As it was, he only held on tighter.

"I won't be gone that long, Shuuhei. Promise."

"Still…"

"I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. Ooh, and I'll bring you some gifts from the human world, how about that?"

Shuuhei grunted. "That mean you're gonna come back in a skirt? With a bow? 'Cuz that'd be an awesome present."

Yumi laughed. "Would that really make you happy?"

"Hell yes."

"All right then."

"Eh? Really?"

Yumi sighed and relaxed against Shuuhei's chest, playing with the edge of the other man's sleeve. "I think I look better in the skirt anyway."

Shuuhei chuckled tiredly into his lover's ear and reached up with one hand to touch Yumichika's face. "Come back safe, all right?"

"Of course, love. And in a skirt at that."

"I'll be waiting for you."

"I know."

**END**


	177. Fanservice

**177.**

**Title: **Fanservice  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** ShuuxYumi, Shuux? (sort of)  
**Word Count:** 982 (close one, eh?)  
**Warning/s: **Silliness and WAFF, but no spoilers.   
**Summary:** Companion drabble of sorts to #172 (True Friendship)- Shuuhei has a scary morning after.  
**Dedication: **Christine- for the fanart as well as the drunkenness. This is my tale-with-a-moral for you. Sort of. XD  
**A/N: **I seriously got this idea at 5 in the morning last night but was too lazy to write it then. I think the original idea was better, but this is what I got when I woke up, and like Shuuhei, we can't always pick what that is.

* * *

Shuuhei groaned as he felt himself being pulled awake against his will, wanting nothing more than to curl up closer to Yumi and sleep for the rest of the day, given how drunk he'd gotten last night and the sickness that would follow should he completely wake up now.

So he rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms more tightly around the body beside him with the intent to sleep the rest of the day away. Sighing happily, he buried his nose into Yumi's hair and…

…stopped.

Didn't smell like Yumi.

Panic.

Don't panic.

Didn't smell like Yumi.

Panic inevitable.

Shuuhei, eyes wrenched shut, tried to remember what happened last night without actually having to look at the person he was in bed with.

He had to go about this slowly. Logically. Without panicking…too much.

Back of his head. Felt like his pillow. He was…home.

That wasn't good.

Or maybe it was.

He took another whiff of his current bedmate.

Definitely smelled wrong. But maybe Yumi had switched shampoos?

No…he wouldn't do that. Plus…person next to him was kinda stinky.

How drunk _was _he last night?

The vice-captain, feeling his hangover headache beginning to kick in full force now, kept his eyes closed out of fierce denial and moved his hands to see if…

…he felt skin.

That wasn't good.

He must have been _really_ drunk last night.

He sighed to himself and forced open an eye.

Shit.

He was currently cuddling with _Renji_.

Not good.

And they were in his and Yumi's bed and that would mean… what _time_ was it… didn't matter, he was dead _anyway_…

"Good morning!"

"AHH!"

Shuuhei tossed Renji off of the bed.

Yumichika blinked back from the doorway to their bedroom.

"It's not what it looks like!"

"You just tossed Renji-kun off of the bed?"

"Well, yeah, it is what it looks like then, but um… I meant when he was in the bed and I was in the bed and…and… er… my head hurts?"

Yumi looked at his lover appraisingly. "Is Renji okay?"

Shuuhei chanced a peek over the edge of the bed, to find Renji facedown into the floorboards, ass in the air and snoring away like he was absolutely fine, shirtless but with…thankfully…shorts on.

"Oh that's good."

Yumi crossed his arms at the statement, arching a feathery brow. "You don't remember what happened last night."

Shuuhei's Renji-relief was short-lived. He stared back helplessly at the other shinigami's declaration. "Er…we um…drunk?"

Yumichika nodded. "And?"

"There's an and?"

"Yup."

"Er… I love you."

That earned a mildly amused smile. "I love you too. Now answer the question."

"But…I…and…my head hurts?"

"Poor baby. Keep going."

"Er… Kira! Kira was designated caretaker! He…"

"Did a very good job for himself considering how sloshed you got last night."

"Yay…Kira?"

"Still avoiding the question, love."

"Erm… Renji and I…fell asleep…hugging?"

Yumi chuckled to himself and shook his head. "That's not it."

There was something in the other man's tone that made Shuuhei's heart stop momentarily. "Er…we…did we… he and I…we didn't…"

"I don't know… _did_ you?"

Shuuhei swallowed. "Er… I… I really don't remember," he admitted with a little sigh, dropping his head to his knees and feeling ill.

Yumichika sat beside him on their bed. "No, I suppose you don't, do you?"

Shuuhei looked up at the other man warily, because he was being waaay too personable considering what might have transpired last night. Which all probably meant Shuuhei was about to be killed _dead._ "I'm sorry?"

Yumi smiled a little bit at that. "You're an idiot."

Now Shuuhei was just confused. "Yes… I am?" he repeated, trying to stay on the safe side of Yumichika's watery smile. "I really, really am?"

Yumi wrapped an arm around him. "You really, really are. But I have something to say too." The other death god looked at him with strangely serious eyes, and it was like Shuuhei couldn't breathe.

"You…do?" Now Shuuhei was beginning to understand what _real _panic felt like. The waking-up panic from earlier paled in comparison.

Yumi was going to leave and he'd be left here with _Renji _and a headache and a broken heart and it would be a _miserable_ life from there on out and he should have been more careful, should have cherished what he had and _not_ felt the need to go out and get sloshed and…

Yumi burst out laughing. "I'm a bad man," he chuckled, touching his lover's face to smooth away the panic. "I'm a very, very bad man."

"…huh?"

"Kira carried you back last night but Renji passed out on our doorstep before he could get him back to his place. I couldn't make him carry _that_ idiot back after he's carried _mine_ all the way here already, so I said that I'd take care of Renji for him."

Shuuhei blinked back at the words that were coming out of Yumi's mouth stupidly. He was listening, but the computing part wasn't up to speed.

"So I undressed you two and put you to bed and slept on the couch because I figured the two stinky drunks deserved each other for the night."

"Wait….so… he…and…_I_…"

Shuuhei's head hurt.

"My head hurts."

Yumi laughed and pulled his lover's aching head against his chest, running his fingers through his hair gently. "It's because you're an idiot."

"Yeah… I am."

They stayed like that for a little while, Yumi remaining silent and waiting patiently for his headachy husband to comprehend everything that happened the night before.

"Yumi? I'm sorry."

Right on cue.

"Nothing to apologize for."

"Um…just so you know… when I was uh…cuddling… Renji… I thought it was you. Honest."

"I know."

"Still…sorry anyway. Shouldn't have let myself get that drunk."

"It's all right, love." Yumi soothed, pausing to press a kiss to the top of Shuuhei's head. "Hey…wanna know a secret?"

"Hmmm?"

"You and Renji? It was actually kinda hot."

**END**


	178. Blood

**178.**

**Title: **Blood  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** GinxKira (darkly)  
**Word Count:** 649  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but some dark content involved?  
**Summary:** Kira's devotion comes in blood.  
**Dedication: **antiparallel- your GinxKira fanart from earlier made me want to write fluff for them, but fluff for them isn't as easy as dark messed up stuff, which is what I got instead. Whoops. ;;  
**A/N: **I am a world of behind schedule in my writing, so it's mostly speed writing from here on out. Aheh. We'll see what that garners…

* * *

Kira bleeds for his captain because that is the duty of a vice-captain, to serve and care for and sacrifice for their leaders so that their great power can be better used for the benefit of seireitei in the moments when that strength is needed most.

Kira goes into battle in his captain's name when Ichimaru doesn't have to, when that great power can be saved for stronger adversaries that Kira himself cannot comprehend.

He fights those foes that he can and returns home with the knowledge that he has fought in the name of his division and for the glory of his captain, and the blood that flows from the wounds he earned are both a badge of pride and of shame, because they signify that he is willing to bleed for his captain and at the same time, has to in the first place.

He wants to be strong enough one day so that he doesn't _have_ to bleed to serve Ichimaru, but at the same time, there's a nagging desire to bear the scars of his devotion because there's just something about blood spilled on his behalf that Ichimaru Gin is enamored of, and Kira can't help but want to get hurt a little if it means Gin reaching out to touch him for it, if it means Ichimaru running his hands over Kira's bleeding cuts or the angry bruises and telling the blonde what a good, devoted vice-captain he is, what a precious one he is to his appreciative captain.

He's willing enough to bleed for his captain, so willing really, that it doesn't feel right when he returns unscathed from his missions because there is an innate sense of loss when he comes back completely intact, an incompleteness that is experienced when there is no blood for his captain to run his fingers over, no bruises for him to brush his lips over as he murmurs that his Kira is such a good, devoted boy and that he is very precious to his captain.

He needs that every time, wants to hear Gin tell him that his blood and sweat and tears are appreciated, that his fidelity is valued, his love acknowledged.

He knows that he should always strive to become stronger, to make it so that while he is _willing_ to bleed for Ichimaru, he doesn't _have_ to because his would be a strength that could protect his captain from all manner of danger with ease.

Yet a part of him will always long to return from battle with his blood flowing from his body as visible proof of his dedication, as a marker for Gin to kneel beside him and kiss his bleeding hands, to touch his cuts and bruises and thank Kira for his hard work.

More and more, he finds himself needing that when he returns from his missions to Gin's side, finds that he needs it more than he desires to be stronger.

Sometimes, when a mission has gone too well, when he is in pristine condition afterwards, the thought of not feeling Ichimaru's hands covered in his lifeblood is a more fearsome thing than whatever enemy it was he had been forced to face.

Sometimes, after those battles, Kira takes his own sword and cuts himself.

He watches the blood come out of his arm, or his side, or his leg or his shoulder, and shaking with anticipation, he thinks of Gin's hands upon those wounds, smiling as his fingers become covered in Kira's blood, smiling and bloody and telling the blonde how dear he is, how wonderful.

Sometimes he cuts himself just for that.

It's not right and it's not noble, but he finds that his blood is the most precious thing he has to offer his important Ichimaru-taichou.

Because more than anything else, Kira needs his beloved captain to know that he will bleed for him.

**END**


	179. A Girl's Best Friend

**179.**

**Title: **A Girl's Best Friend  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Hitsugaya, Matsumoto (could be seen as shippy, but could be seen as _not_ just as easily).  
**Word Count:** 479  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers, but some possible OOCness?  
**Summary:** Hitsugaya goes jewelry shopping and learns a valuable lesson about life in the process.  
**Dedication: **Jenkat for he promise of future iconing. XD  
**A/N: **I could probably be shot for writing this the way I did; but seriously, I'm just doing whatever comes to my head at this point. School starts for me on Tuesday, people. TUESDAY.

* * *

"I don't see why you have to be mad at _me._" 

"That man thought I was your _mother_!"

Hitsugaya fought the urge to roll his eyes at Matsumoto's outburst, because that wouldn't help the situation any.

"He thought you were my very _beautiful_ mother," the captain offered up instead, doing his best to not sound bored by her strange, indignant rage.

They'd been off duty and shopping in Rukongai for a birthday gift for Hinamori earlier that afternoon, dressed in plain clothes and minding their own business, when a rather loudmouthed street vendor had waved some flashy jewelry in the young captain's face and asked him if he didn't want to buy a nice present for his very beautiful mother.

Matsumoto had glared.

Hitsugaya had liked the necklace and asked if he could get a discount if it _was_ a present for his very beautiful mother.

That was about when Matsumoto flipped.

They'd ended up getting a large discount on the jewelry plus a bonus gift from the cowering merchant, so Hitsugaya didn't really see a downside to anything, let alone any continuing reason for Rangiku's seething rage.

"Should I have told him you were my date or something?" the young captain offered on a whim after a moment, examining the extra earrings the vendor had thrown in as a "please don't kill me" gift.

Matsumoto paused. "_Date_?"

"Would that have made you feel any better?" he asked rationally, before taking the necklace out of the box and shining it in the light appraisingly.

She paused. "No. Maybe." She eyed him suspiciously. "_Why_?"

"Because then we can go back tomorrow and tell him he made another grievous mistake. That way we can get the fear discount on the next thing we buy too."

She blinked. "What? We're buying something else? Why?"

He held up their prize and stated, very matter-of-factly, "He was right about one thing… this definitely suits you. More than Hinamori, now that I look at it up close. I suppose I forgot we were actually shopping for _her _when I bought it."

She stared at him.

"Anyway, I think you should just have this one, Matsumoto and…" he trailed off, his brow furrowing as he noted the odd expression she was shooting at him. "What?"

She smiled. "Nothing. Can you put it on me then, taichou?" She brushed her hair off the back of her neck and held it up.

He blinked at the sudden change in atmosphere. "Alright."

Later, when Matsumoto was admiring her new jewelry and was all smiles and kindness to him in the office, Hitsugaya made a mental note to himself that women seemed to like pretty shiny things given to them when they were angry, and decided that today's strangeness might have actually been worth all the trouble he had to go through if the theory held true in the future.

**END**


	180. Surprise!

**180.**

**Title: **Surprise!  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Isshin, Ryuuken, ambiguously IsshinxRyuuken?  
**Word Count:** 93 (weird)  
**Warning/s: **Not really spoilers, but I suppose if you don't know who Ryuuken is, there's that. O.o  
**Summary:** Isshin plans a surprise.  
**Dedication: **laliho- Again, a thousand thanks and dude, you ROCK me. BUT I LOVE YOU MOST ANYWAY. HA.  
**A/N: **Wow, under 100 words. This is rare for me. --;; Anyway, this is seriously all I could get when Christine gave me the one word theme "balloons." O.o

* * *

He'd spent an entire afternoon blowing up balloons and hanging streamers, but all for naught, because when Ryuuken stepped into the room, his only reaction had been a slight twitching in the eye area as Isshin jumped out from around the corner yelling "surprise!" at the top of his lungs, the act of which merely resulted in the other doctor promptly turning around and walking away without a word, shutting the door soundly behind him as he left.

In retrospect, Ishhin supposed that the clown outfit might have been a tad too much.

**END**


	181. Kinder, Gentler Death Gods

**181.**

**Title: **Kinder, Gentler Death Gods  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Byakuya  
**Word Count:** 647  
**Warning/s: **Soul Society Arc spoilers, OOC bitchiness.  
**Summary:** Everyone is dumb except for Byakuya.  
**Dedication: **Lisa- everyone needs your kind of sensitivity. XD  
**A/N: **I dunno, I kind of just was amused by the thought of Byakuya being sort of bitchy, and wrote this with that intent and nothing else. Wonder how it turned out?

* * *

It was some sort of new wave, intrapersonal relativity fad that was all the rage in seireitei lately, and Kuchiki Byakuya found himself rather wishing that it _wasn't_ so that he could remain in the old wave where he belonged and where things were much simpler. 

Advocates for the sweeping changes were making a lot of noise lately about how communication and trust had been down since the incident with Aizen and the ryoka, which, to the sixth division captain was a _given_, but regardless, the idiots were clamoring for some special training that would rebuild broken bonds of trust between shinigami and make seireitei a nice, fuzzy place to live.

Things like division dinners and vice-captain exchanges were happening left and right, strange, pointless exercises in futility that attempted to create bridges where there had been none before or recreate those that had been burned by recent betrayals.

The only result of such activities that Byakuya could see thus far was the fact that Renji was gone for a week to serve under that hippie Kyouraku, and here _he_ was, stuck in his division with the same amount of work and no vice-captain (they were still technically short one considering Ukitake's needlessly sentimental refusal to just choose the lesser idiot of his two idiots vying for the position as Kaien's successor), and all every one of these things really did for Byakuya's sense of seireitei community was create a steadily increasing loathing for every "I need a hug" shinigami that came out crying for kindness and sympathy and greater friendship amongst peers.

He believed that those who had not been well liked by others before and cried about it now should learn to be silent and accept the fact that nature had not intended for them to be loved by anyone.

But whenever he said as such, he was branded "callous" and sent to a fourth division counselor to try and suss out what his childhood trauma was.

He very dryly told them that his parents had died when he was young, his wife had never loved him, and very recently, he'd attempted to kill his sister and a couple of her friends before being _stabbed_ by a traitor and hospitalized for a good week in a place where the food was horrible, the noise was unacceptable, and he couldn't get any work done even when he tried.

The counselor had listened intently to his every word and afterwards, asked Byakuya if he felt any better for getting all of that off his chest.

Byakuya asked, very seriously, if by 'better' he meant 'degrees stupider'.

The counselor branded him as sane, but clinically insensitive.

Byakuya had return-branded his counselor as a good listener, but clinically idiotic before leaving to go get some real work done.

A week after that incident, he was called into the Center 46 council room and asked why he refused to cooperate with their attempts at turning seireitei into an environment where strong teamwork and friendship bonds could be built and never broken. They felt it was an essential step in their restructuring, as they didn't want the whole Aizen fiasco repeating itself, after all.

Byakuya answered, very civilly, that he did indeed want to help seireitei rebuild and that he hoped one day, he could make as good friends for himself as Aizen, Gin, and Tousen had been to each other, what, with all of their unbreakable bonds and the like.

The councilmen had dismissed him immediately.

When he returned to the sixth division headquarters, Renji was waiting for him.

Confused, but waiting for him.

The next day, Center 46 effectively recalled all vice-captains to their designated posts and postponed indefinitely, any future endeavors in bridge building.

Smiling quietly to himself, Byakuya couldn't help but wonder if any of them, in all of their horrible, horrible failure glory, needed a hug.

**END**


	182. Best Place

**182.**

**Title: **Best Place  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** KyourakuxUkitake, Nanao  
**Word Count:** 302  
**Warning/s: **Smarm, but no spoilers.  
**Summary:** Kyouraku describes his favorite place.  
**Dedication: **Ann- thanks for visiting and the Atlantis! And the cock!  
**A/N: **I can't explain any motivation for this one, really, besides the want for more KyouUki on my part. This is sort of what just came of that basic desire. O.o Instinct writing. Yes.

* * *

Kyouraku thinks that his most favorite place in the entire world is definitely in Jyuushirou's lap.

It's the nicest place for a nap he's ever slept, and there's just something about waking up to that beautiful face right above him that makes him feel life is worth living six million times over, if only for that moment right before full consciousness when his eyes are fluttering open and he can see Ukitake there, head bent and smiling down at him indulgently, his fingers running gently through Shunsui's hair as the white-haired captain coaxes him awake.

It's a heartwarming experience, and he always finds himself smiling in return before reaching up to touch that captivating face and gently tugging it down to meet his own in a languid, post-nap kiss, the most delicious way of coming to full wakefulness Kyouraku has ever had in all his years.

At least, this is what he tries to explain to Nanao when she slaps him for his response and storms of, her question being, "Taichou…where's your favorite place to go in seireitei?"

His answer of course, had been "Jyuu-chan's lap," and scandalized, the eighth division vice-captain had responded with said slapping and said storming off, muttering incredulously at his vulgarity all the while.

He hadn't known she was asking her question for reference towards a good picnic spot that she and her friends could go to, and never in a hundred years would he have answered with what he had answered with had he known her real intent.

Though technically, he's also eaten food off of his favorite place a few times before and hopes to again in the future given that it was a great experience, but Shunsui doesn't quite believe that either Jyuushirou or Nanao would appreciate him letting that fact be known publicly.

**END **


	183. The Wheel of Fate

**183.**

**Title: **The Wheel of Fate  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** implied IchigoxRukia, Renji, Ishida  
**Word Count:** 435  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 195, and also major OOCness.  
**Summary:** Renji feels shafted by fortune.  
**Dedication: **This one's so OOC I don't think anyone wants it.  
**A/N: **Well, I wrote about Byakuya being a bitch earlier, and then I decided I wanted Ishida to be one too, and here we have more bitchiness. In a very OOC manner, but still, at least I'm one drabble closer to my goal? Validation enough for me. Sort of.

* * *

It's like watching fate at work.

He sits in the class and he's there just as much as Kurosaki is, but at the same time, he's _not_ and while he wants to resent it there's nothing much he can do, because fate works in its own ways, and none of those ways ever seem to want Renji to come out top dog.

He watches as Rukia passes Ichigo a note and Ichigo reads it, giving her a funny look, which she returns with a meaningful one, and there starts one exchange after another that Renji can't even quite keep up with, so he forces himself to look away and thinks that fate is a bitch and he hates her.

And she obviously feels the same way towards him, because the next thing he knows, Rukia's smiling in amusement and Ichigo's looking back at her with a glare that's not really a glare so much as a big woobie "I'm glad you're back" that he isn't even hiding at _all_ behind that ridiculous furrowing of his brows that's not working _even a little._

Plainly, everyone can see what's going on here.

He wants to bitch about how _obvious_ it is to someone, but the only one that's anywhere near him is that Ishida Quincy kid, and there is just something unfair about the Japanese alphabet that warrants noting because of that.

The last time Renji tried to start up a conversation about how _not subtle_ Ichigo and Rukia were, Ishida had merely adjusted his glasses and asked in a rather bored fashion, if Renji would like him to knit him a big blue bag of sadness that he could catch his tears of never-ending sorrow in and keep as a reminder of his eternal torment.

Apparently Quincies were even _bitchier_ than fate.

He snorts. Well, Ichigo isn't the only one who Rukia can pass notes too.

That decided, he grabs a corner of notebook paper and begins scribbling on it before glancing around surreptitiously and tossing it over his shoulder in Rukia's general direction.

It reads, "_So…how's it going?_"

Moments later, he receives an answer sharply aimed at the back of the head.

Her response reads, "_Are you ill? Or have you gone stupid?_"

He grunts and shoves the paper into his pocket and mutters to himself about how he hopes fate is having a grand old time messing with him.

From beside him, Ishida murmurs that it's hysterical to _him_, so fate must be close to peeing its pants.

Renji decides at this point that Ishida sucks more than fate.

But only by a little.

**END**


	184. Messages from Space

**184.**

**Title: **Messages from Space  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Tousen, Komamura (could be construed as KomamuraxTousen if you wanted…)  
**Word Count:** 352  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Tousen has one regret.   
**Dedication: **maydayswing for the cute KomaxTou fanart. Thanks again! I am always a sucker for fanart. XD  
**A/N: **Sap? A little. The KomaxTou dynamic lends it self to some sort of tortured yet loyal yet never-gonna-work effed-up-ness in my world. So yeah. They get to sap for one another but I'll probably never have them cuddle. --;;

* * *

Tousen would like to be able to say that he left with no regrets, but he still remembers Komamura's plaintive cries of his name as he followed Aizen and Gin out of seireitei, and while he couldn't see his friend's face, he knows that betrayal has a distinct tenor when voiced aloud, and there was more than simply that in Sajin's words as he'd shouted up after Kaname.

He's heard that particular mixture of tone quality before and it is one he knows as only created in the direst of times, when a person is on the verge of losing their entire world.

Tousen Kaname never thought he was capable of being someone's world.

And so he can't say with any honesty, that he left Soul Society without any regrets, because he knows there is one glaring one.

It isn't the fact that he seems to have betrayed one of his dearest friends.

Or the fact that he had to leave Komamura behind.

It's the fact that he didn't get to tell Sajin not to worry.

When he heard Komamura's voice calling for him, all he'd wanted at that moment was to be able to answer that call, to shout back down for Sajin not to worry.

His only regret is not having been able to tell Komamura, "I'll return for you."

But his remorse is tempered by the fact that he will in fact return for his friend one day and that on that day, Komamura will understand.

They all will.

As he sits by himself now in this new world in-between, Tousen realizes that he is once again, thinking of a friend who has been separated for him.

But at least this time, he knows that the two of them will be reunited one day.

And so Kaname sits in the world between with that knowledge and his one regret. Quietly, he lets himself say the words now, now that it won't do any harm, and he hopes that even with all the distance between them, Sajin will somehow, be able to hear his voice.

"I will return for you."

**END**


	185. Halloween Hijinks

**185.**

**Title: **Halloween Hijinks  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Chad, Karin, Yuzu  
**Word Count:** 484  
**Warning/s: **Strange randomness on a theme that is hard to write. O.o  
**Summary:** Chad baby-sits the Kurosaki sisters for an evening.  
**Dedication: **Ivan- who also looks older than he is sometimes. O.o  
**A/N: **So Skye gave me the theme of Halloween, which, I don't know if they celebrate in Japan or not. But uh, suspend your disbelief and I'm sorry in advance.

* * *

Chad didn't quite know how it had happened, but he and Ichigo both had been assigned the task of taking Karin and Yuzu out for trick-or-treating this Halloween, and somewhere along the way, Rukia had shown up with a bag and demanded to be given free candy as well.

However, only a few hours into the treat hunt and the two of them had been called away on official shinigami duty, leaving Chad alone with Karin and Yuzu in the middle of the street, he clutching Rukia's half-filled bag of candy with the instructions to have it all full by the time the duo returned.

Chad personally, would rather go Hollow hunting than trick-or-treating, but as usual, he hadn't reacted fast enough to get out of it and there were now two Kurosaki girls (or more specifically, one cat and one ax-murderer) standing in front of him and waiting for his next instruction.

Chad blinked. "Um… that one?" he asked, pointing to one house not too far off.

Said house refused to give him candy on the grounds that he looked like an old man and who were those cute little girls and where did he get them, most suspicious of him wasn't it?

This went on for several more households, and Chad wondered to himself if it would be bad to disregard Kuchiki-san's instructions on the grounds that he looked too big to be trick-or-treating, as well as the fact that he lacked a costume.

Imagining her not-so-much-disappointed-as-angry look upon her return to a still half-full bag of candy, Chad very quickly darted around a corner and materialized his right arm into it's attack state before rejoining the Kurosaki sisters as they came down from the doorstep he'd momentarily left them on.

Karin blinked at him from under her hockey mask. "You're using _that_ for your costume?"

Chad blinked back. "…yes?"

She lifted her mask off her face and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "And what exactly, are you supposed to be?"

"Um…"

He hadn't thought about that.

Yuzu looked back and forth between her sister and her brother's friend. "I um… I have an idea?"

The next house the unlikely trio hit was treated to one adorable cat girl and one serial killer who was wearing a strange glove and carrying the body of a dead little girl over his shoulder.

Chad received candy to put into Rukia's bag from the woman at that house. The whole bowl even.

Upon closing the door, the nice lady quickly called the cops, which when he thought about it, was the only way getting the whole bowl of candy from any one house really made sense.

Later, at the police station, when Karin was explaining that Chad was not a _real_ serial killer and that he was in fact, _fifteen_, Chad decided that maybe Kuchiki-san should get her own candy from here on out.

**END**


	186. Not the Jealous Type

**  
186.**

**Title: **Not the Jealous Type  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 359  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but some WAFF.  
**Summary:** Companion drabble to #177 (Fanservice)- Shuuhei objects to Yumichika's blasé mannerisms. Silly Shuuhei.  
**Dedication: **antiparallel- OMG the layout, the LAYOUT. ShuuxYumi LOVE!  
**A/N: **Fluff anyone? Also, I think my pacing is a little bit off lately so hopefully this doesn't come across too stupid… --;;

* * *

"You should be more jealous."

Yumichika blinked at Shuuhei's sudden declaration. "What was that?"

"You should…uh, be more jealous," Shuuhei repeated, with slightly less conviction now that Yumi was looking at him funny.

"Why?"

"Well 'cuz… you _should_."

Yumichika, expert at translating Hisagi-logic, deducted that Shuuhei was thinking about how he'd put Renji in the same bed with him last night so they could sleep off their drunken stupor together.

"You _stunk_," he stated in his own defense.

"That's not the point!" Shuuhei protested. "The point is, shouldn't be so easy for you to just stick me in bed with some other guy half naked like that."

Yumichika studied him for a moment and Shuuhei swallowed, waiting for his lover's response.

"Shuu… are you pouting?"

"No!"

"You are! That's so _cute!_"

"Shut up."

"Aww…cheek pinch!"

"Argh… stopit!"

"Kya… you're such a sweetie bear!" Yumi exclaimed, laughing as Shuuhei swatted ineffectually at him. Wickedly, he reached downward to pinch a different cheek altogether.

Shuuhei yelped. "Yumi! I'm tryin' to have a conversation here!"

At his lover's tone, Ayasekawa cleared his throat and did his best to look serious. "Alright, alright. Tell me then, why _I _should be jealous, oh love of my life."

Shuuhei scowled and rubbed at his ass sorely. "Well, c'mon. How d'ya think I feel when you can so easily throw me into _our_ bed with some other guy and not even think twice about it?"

Yumi sighed and took Shuuhei's face in his hands, forcing the (still) pouting vice-captain to look at him. "Sweetheart," he began very slowly. "It's because I trust you."

Shuuhei supposed it was impossible to stay irritated at that. Defeated, he muttered something about not playing fair and leaned forward for a kiss.

"Besides, I'm too beautiful for you to leave me," Yumi added with a little toss of his hair. "You're not _that_ dumb."

Shuuhei stopped mid-lean and scowled, realizing that he'd not only walked right into that one, he'd practically begged to be hit upside the head with it too.

"You're too…"

"Yup. Too pretty. Now kiss me."

Shuuhei groaned and did as he was told.

Really, he should've known.

**END**


	187. For Love Of

**187.**

**Title: **For Love Of  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 485  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but some great boozing.  
**Summary:** Kyouraku is only good at the things he loves.  
**Dedication: **Ann- I swear, I finished around 3,000 words today. Yeah, so… I can um… do this? O.o  
**A/N: **I just thought Kyouraku would be sexy-smooth no matter what, even when he was drunk, and this is what I got when I thought about him like that. Uuuh… lame, huh? --;;

* * *

Shunsui's hands always move like magic, even when he's drunk, and Ukitake watches as he pours himself another dish of sake with a fluidity that rivals the alcohol's, the other captain's cheeks flushed slightly as he lies stretched out on his side, head propped up with one arm and the other being used to keep a steady supply of sake flowing into his system.

It shouldn't be possible considering how much he's already had to drink, on top of that is the fact that right now, Kyouraku's eyes are fixed on Jyuushirou, giving the thirteenth division captain a look that says he's thinking about maybe what they should do _after_ they're done drinking.

But like second nature, his hands move on instinct, fingertips dancing over the rim of the bottle, lifting it lightly in one hand and tipping the lip forward to fill his dish to the brim. When he picks it up, all laws of nature suggest that movement should send some of the clear liquid splashing over the sides, but Shunsui merely swirls it in his hand like it isn't full at all before he tips it up and drinks down the contents in one smooth breath, not a drop spilled or wasted as he does.

Ukitake knows that if Shunsui exhibited this much precision with his paperwork, he would be the number one ranked captain in all of seireitei's history.

When the thirteenth division leader voices his thoughts on the matter aloud, Kyouraku simply smiles and toasts him, stating that precision is more easily gained in the things that one enjoys doing rather than in the things one is forced to do.

Ukitake shakes his head bemusedly and answers that no, he supposes Kyouraku doesn't lack in the enjoyment of his alcohol enough to warrant anything _but _absolute expertise in the field of drinking.

Shunsui laughs and pours himself another dish at that, telling Jyuushirou not to be fooled, because while he knows he is good at drinking, there are other things he feels he is even better at.

Ukitake chuckles and replies that he can't imagine anything Shunsui has more love of than good wine, and consequently, he knows of nothing that the other captain is better at than drinking.

Kyouraku raises his dish skyward and promises to show him right after this last drink.

Later, when those very expert hands are running along the crook of Jyuushirou's hips with a level of precision that makes him gasp and cry at every perfect touch, Shunsui smiles knowingly and presses a kiss against Ukitake's throat, asking, "See? Even _better_."

Ukitake would take offense at being likened to drinking booze, but the fact of the matter is, he can't really argue a point that feels so emphatically _true_.

He supposes, given Kyouraku's personality, that he should be immensely flattered.

After all, it's not everyday that Shunsui admits to loving something more than wine.

**END **


	188. Badasses Don't Like Bunnies

**188.**

**Title: **Badasses Don't Like Bunnies  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Kenpachi, Yachiru, Yumichika  
**Word Count:** 591  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but OOCness all over the place.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi disapproves of Yumi's choice in children's sleepwear.  
**Dedication: **Jenkat- thanks for helping with the lj-layout stuff! I are retarded when it comes to technology. --;;  
**A/N: **I honestly don't know, I just figured it'd been a while since I wrote any Yachiru, which needed to be rectified. So here we are.

* * *

"There we go, all ready for bed!" Yumichika called out cheerfully, stepping into Kenpachi's office with a freshly bathed and dressed Yachiru in his arms. "Now say good night you two!"

Kenpachi simply stared at them. "Um…what the hell?"

Yumi frowned. "What, what the hell?"

"What the hell is she wearing, Yumi?"

The fifth chair frowned right back. "Her bunny pajamas."

And she was indeed a bunny, all dressed up in cute pink footie-pajamas with a hood that had two long, floppy pink ears attached to it.

Kenpachi sweatdropped. "Her…bunny pajamas."

Yachiru nodded. "Yup. I'm a bunny."

Zaraki felt a headache coming on. "Yachiru, darlin', you _kill_ bunnies, remember?"

She puffed her cheeks at him. "Only sometimes!"

Realizing that following_ that_ particular line of logic would get him nowhere, the eleventh division captain turned back to his fifth seat. "Yumi, get her out of that and into something decently respectable right now. I ain't lettin' her go to bed thinking she's some sorta wussy bunny rabbit."

Yumi, setting Yachiru down on the floor when she began to squirm restlessly in his arms, arched a brow at his captain. "If you don't like how I dress her before bed then get her ready yourself next time."

"I'm your _captain_! You do what I order you to do!"

Far from intimidated, Yumi merely moved to examine his perfectly filed nails in a rather unimpressed fashion. "Make me."

Kenpachi growled and pointed down at Yachiru. "I don't like the bunny pajamas," he reiterated.

"Well you don't have to get all bossy and snippy about it just because _you_ like the bear pajamas better, taichou," Yumi sniffed, nose in the air. "_I_ think the bunny is the cutest. And fukutaichou likes them too."

Kenpachi glared at Ayasekawa as he stooped to scoop Yachiru up off the floor and into his arms. "I ain't bein' snippy. It'sa fact, Yumi, a fact. The bear is_ way cuter_! And it ain't a pansy animal like bunnies. Bears kill things, dammit."

"Well then, _you _convince her to change, taichou."

"Che. Fine, I will." He turned to Yachiru, who was giggling and playing with the long, floppy ears she was currently sporting. "Oi, Yachiru…"

She blinked up at him. "Hmmm?"

He bent his head a little and turned so they were facing away from Yumichika. "You like the bear better, right? Tell that idiot you like the bear ones better," he instructed in a low voice.

"Nope… I like the bunny ears most!"

He frowned. "Aw c'mon, you're just sayin' that. Last time you _loved_ the bear outfit."

She patted him comfortingly. "_Ears_, Ken-chan, _ears_!" she said very matter-of-factly before grasping them in her fists and _flopping _them at him with a little giggle.

He stared at her.

After a minute he sighed in defeat and handed her back to Yumi. "Okay fine. It's a _little_ bit cute."

Ayasekawa smirked at the admission. "Told you so." Turning back to Yachiru, he bounced her in his arms once, "Alright fukutaichou…we've passed the tyrant's inspection, and that means it's time for bed."

"Haaai!"

Kenpachi scowled after them.

He still liked the bear pajamas best, dammit. They had round little ears and pink squishy pads on the feet and hands and…

…waitaminute.

He paused mid-thought, squinting as he saw something white and round and undeniably fluffy in his line of sight as Yachiru bounced around in Yumi's hold.

Was that a _tail_?

It _was_ a tail.

Well… that did it.

Zaraki knew when he was beat.

Those bunny pajamas were pretty damn cute.

**END**


	189. Waste Not

**189.**

**Title: **Waste Not  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Aizen, Urahara  
**Word Count:** 325  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Aizen knows when to just watch and wait.  
**Dedication: **Greg- you asked for it, you deal with the consequences. XD  
**A/N: **Greg gave me the theme of "Prodigal"… um, I don't think I did too well, but whatever, it's done. --;;

* * *

Aizen thinks Urahara is unnecessarily wasteful, a man who throws away all the opportunities given to him in life not because he lacks foresight, but rather, because he lacks the ambition to seize those opportunities and benefit from them.

He has the ability to make himself infinitely more powerful than those around him and he fails to act upon it.

He disregards his natural superiority over others and befriends those with less vision, less ability and intelligence.

Aizen once asked him what his ultimate goal as a shinigami would one day be, and Kisuke's answer had been a tongue-in-cheek declaration that his only real goal as a shinigami was to not always be one.

Aizen never quite understood what Urahara meant by that, but all he feels when he recalls that moment is a sense of sorrow at the misuse of talent.

Because Aizen is smart enough to know when he is not the smartest one, and when he looks at Kisuke all he can see is miles of untapped potential that will more likely than not remain that way unless someone with greater vision than Urahara steps in to take advantage of such a vast resource.

So Aizen, patient, ambitious Aizen, watches and waits as Kisuke ambles recklessly along, the fifth division captain carefully anticipating just the right moment to strike, to take the opportunities Urahara wastes and twist them to his own advantage.

He is smart enough to know when he isn't the smartest after all; smart enough to know when to simply stand aside and wait for those above him to unwittingly drop a priceless treasure into his lap.

So when he hears of something called Hou Gyoku that Kisuke's genius has unintentionally stumbled upon, he knows it's time to move.

And even though he is certain that he isn't as smart as Kisuke, he's also certain that he will never lose to him.

Because unlike Urahara, Aizen doesn't waste any chances.

**END**


	190. The Greater Good

**190.**

**Title: **The Greater Good  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** IsshinxRyuuken  
**Word Count:** 334  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but there be mansex here.  
**Summary:** Ryuuken makes the necessary sacrifices for the greater good.  
**Dedication: **Everyone for the birthday wishes and gifts. tear I'm so touched!  
**A/N: **Uuuum… I'm exhausted from film school orientation so my mind is kind of woozy as I write… this might make sense to NO ONE. But that's okay, I suppose. --;;

* * *

Sometimes Ryuuken thinks the only reason he sleeps with Isshin is to shut the man up.

Because Ryuuken has discovered that the other doctor is strangely quiet during sex, brow furrowed and head bent, and it's at those time and those times only, when Ryuuken can admit that maybe, Kurosaki is a little bit handsome, when he's concentrating so hard that he's too busy to speak.

It's a welcome change from Isshin's constant blabber, the string of nonsense he spews whenever they're together and _not_ having sex, Kurosaki's brain stringing random thoughts together in nonsensical orders and ejecting them from his mouth before they are properly processed, which leads to all manner of stupid, the likes of which makes Ryuuken want to smack the other man for every idiotically uttered word.

As it is, when they have sex, Isshin is quiet, and Ryuuken half suspects that it's due to Isshin's inability to generate enough blood to keep both his head and his cock functioning at the same time.

Truth be told, the Quincy prefers sex to listening to anything Isshin has to say.

It's an exhausting preference really, but Ryuuken feels it's well worth the effort to keep the greater evil at bay.

So when Isshin shudders and collapses on top of him, Ryuuken waits patiently for exactly two minutes to pass.

Once those two minutes have past, on cue, he hears, "Ne, Ryuu-chan… do you like purple? I like it but sometimes I feel like it's lying and really just blue that's blushing…"

Ryuuken cuts him off with a kiss and shifts his weight, rolling on top of Kurosaki. "Stop talking," he breathes in annoyance.

"But I…and… Mmmmph!"

Ryuuken will be exhausted and sore and cranky come morning, but he reminds himself that it's all for the greater good.

Because while he may be exhausted and sore and cranky tomorrow, at least he'll maintain whatever's left of his sanity.

So long as he does whatever it takes to shut Isshin up.

Sacrifices, sacrifices.

**END**


	191. Where All the Cool Kids Hang

**191.**

**Title: **Where All The Cool Kids Hang  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Renji, Ikkaku, Histugaya, Ayasekawa, Matsumoto, Ichigo, Rukia  
**Word Count:** 316  
**Warning/s: **Spoiler for chapter 195.   
**Summary:** All the cool kids get together after school and hang out.  
**Dedication: **JaB- she suggested it, and is playing Mario Party as we speak. --;;  
**A/N: **LAME LAME LAME LAME LAME LAME.

* * *

"I don't like this "Mario" guy," Renji declared, glaring suspiciously at the screen.

"Just somethin' shady 'bout a fat guy that can jump that high'n hold his breath that long."

"Agreed," Ikkaku grunted, rapidly pressing the buttons on his controller with no particular aim other than to rapidly push buttons. "Ain't nothin' natural about it."

"I dunno, I think he's kind of cute! With the suspenders and the hat and the gloves! He's a very well kept plumber. Though Luigi's much better looking."

Abarai and Madarame both eyed Ayasekawa. "No one asked you," they responded in unison before turning back to the game.

"I've memorized the guide book. Give me a controller," Hitsugaya demanded from behind the trio, throwing down the game booklet triumphantly and holding out his hand with a look of expectant anticipation.

"Che, learn by _doing_, taichou, by _doing_," Renji prompted, swooping his control away from the reaching captain and continuing the game anyway. "We ain't all geniuses like you after all, taichou… gotta learn by doing, ya see?"

"Right, by doin'," Ikkaku reiterated absently, staring at Mario swimming hypnotically across the screen.

Hitsugaya glared at them both when neither relinquished their turn at the Nintendo. "Fine. I _order_ you to give me a controller."

Matsumoto sighed. "Just wait your turn, taichou," she chided without conviction, flipping through the magazine she'd found downstairs and contemplating whether she was a spring or an autumn.

Ichigo rubbed his temples and pushed Ikkaku's feet off of his bed, holding a tray of hot tea and rice cakes that Yuzu had brought up for "niichan and his new friends". He set the tray down, and Rukia promptly helped herself to the snacks without a word to his aid. He glared at everyone. "Um. Yeah. So. Why are you all here again?"

Renji glared right back at him and snatched a rice cake. "Mario, obviously. Pay attention, newbie."

**END**


	192. Keep Your Hat On

**192.**

**Title: **Keep Your Hat On  
**Rating: **G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Urahara, Yoruichi  
**Word Count:** 466  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Urahara and Yoruichi's backstory and some strange speculation on my part.  
**Summary:** Kisuke has a unique sense of style.   
**Dedication: **Beck- See? You still get the MAJORITY of the Urahara dedications. :P  
**A/N: **I had to paint my hat with acrylic for my Urahara cosplay. THE PATTERN SUCKS BY THE WAY. So yeah. I decided to write a drabble on it. It makes perfect sense in my head.

* * *

It was a few weeks after they'd left seireitei when Yoruichi paid her first visit to him in the run down hovel he was calling home at the time, a big step down from his quarters as a captain, but a big step up in his level of cheer all the same, and so she'd endured it for him, though her sensitive nose was appalled by the smell.

She'd found him sitting by himself in the back, painting his hat.

He'd been humming some sort of lively tune as he did it, making it seem like he was outside in the springtime air with birds singing and sun shining as he laid one stroke after another of what seemed to be an improbable pattern of some sort, green and white paint all over the floors and on his face, a little in his hair.

If asked, she wouldn't be able to think of a time when he'd looked more at ease.

She'd watched him paint his hat like that for a while, smiling to himself as he went from green stripe to white stripe to green stripe and back again, like he had all the time in the world to do nothing but paint stripes all day.

And she watched him from the doorway, thinking that maybe this was exactly where he needed to be right now, despite her earlier objections to his leaving.

"That is a weird hat," she'd stated after a while, stepping into the room.

He'd just smiled like he'd known she was there the entire time (he probably had), and paused in his painting to admire his work. "Is it? I kind of like it."

She snorted softly. "It's not normal."

He winked. "Suits me then, don't you think?"

"Only you," she agreed. "Though why you're spending so much time painting odd stripes onto an odd hat is beyond me. You could just buy one and be done with it, couldn't you?"

He smirked. "My dear, do you think they just make hats like this?" he asked, setting his brush down so he could hold said hat up and admire it in the dim light that managed somehow, to filter into the dank room.

She crossed her arms and regarded his handiwork. "True enough, but I think they don't make hats like that for a_ reason_, Kisuke."

"Well. Isn't life all about making for yourself what they say you can't have?" he'd asked, waggling his eyebrows at her and plopping the not-dry-yet hat on his head like it was the most normal thing in the world to do.

And deep down in her heart, she supposed it was, because she knew Kisuke and she understood the sentiments behind his actions.

But all the same, she wouldn't be caught dead in that hat.

**END **


	193. No Means No, Unless it Means Yes

**193.**

**Title: **No Means No (Unless it Means Yes)  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** GinxIzuru, Tousen  
**Word Count:** 493  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, really, though I suppose there are a couple you could argue by association?  
**Summary:** Gin is the king of workplace sexual harassment.  
**Dedication: **antiparallel- yay requests!  
**A/N: **I had a really good idea for a drabble as I was drifting off to sleep last night and told myself to remember it come morning so I could make a note. WELL I FORGOT IT. But in my trying to remember my idea I came up with this one, which is dumber, but a good way to fill the couple hours I have between classes. --;;

* * *

Kira yelps when he finds himself being tugged backwards into Ichimaru's lap, caught unawares as his captain pulls him back flush against his chest and buries his nose into the curve of the blonde's shoulder, making a semi-contented noise as he does. 

"Taichou?"

"Ne… Izu-chan," Gin begins cheerfully, "wanna have sex?"

The vice-captain feels his cheeks burn red at the inquiry and he squirms a little in an effort to free himself. "Taichou… we can't just…not in the middle…"

Gin frowns and reaches one hand around his subordinate anyway, fingers ghosting under the opening at the front of Kira's top. "Why not?"

Redder and redder, the blonde struggles to find his voice, grating an embarrassed, "Nnn…b-because, sir um…" out as he writhes in an attempt to free himself and get back to work. "Taichou!"

Gin pauses in his movements and smiles wickedly. "Ne… just a _little_ sex?"

"We can't!" Kira responds more emphatically now that his captain's wandering hands have stopped momentarily.

"Why not?" Gin repeats, looking like he's ready to get started with our without Kira's willing participation.

"Because you're in the middle of a meeting, sir!" the flustered vice-captain manages, shooting an apologetic look at Tousen Kaname, the ninth division captain currently sitting on the other side of Ichimaru's desk, staring blankly ahead at the two.

Gin laughs. "Is that it? Don't worry, Izu-chan, he won't be able to _see_ us. Blind, remember?"

"_Taichou_!" Mourning his captain's absolute lack of propriety, Kira redoubles his efforts to escape the embarrassing situation. "Taichou, please attend to Tousen-taichou, who's come a very long way to see you today!"

"But I don't wanna have sex with _him_," Gin protests, clutching tighter to his would-be victim.

"Likewise," Kaname deadpans from his seat, the first indication of any movement or _life_ from the ninth division leader since his arrival into Gin's office.

Gin smirks at his vice-captain. "See? He doesn't want me to tend to him either."

Even more mortified now, Kira drops the papers he'd come to pick up from Gin in the first place and pushes against the arms wrapped around him with greater fervor. "Tousen-taichou, please excuse my interruption," he apologizes, managing to bow his head as he struggles. "I'll be leaving right away to allow you to conduct your business."

"Much appreciated," Kaname responds, oddly enough, not sounding the least bit surprised at Ichimaru's antics.

Gin frowns at the other two's exchange, forced to release his prey with Tousen's predictably boring last statement. Pouting at the ruined atmosphere, he murmurs, "you're no fun, Izu-chan," into his vice-captain's ear before releasing him with a disappointed sigh.

Relieved beyond measure, Izuru stoops to pick up the papers he'd dropped, cheeks still burning.

"Ne… how about later then?" Gin asks after a moment, leering down at his second chair.

Kira rushes out of the room without a word.

But, as Gin notes, while he doesn't exactly say yes, he doesn't exactly say _no_ that time either.

**END**


	194. Love Marks

**194.**

**Title: **Love Marks  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** IsshinxRyuuken  
**Word Count:** 345  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers really, but some OOC improbabilities and pseudo-domestic violence?  
**Summary:** Isshin leaves hickies. Ryuuken leaves bruises.  
**Dedication: **laliho- pineapples. OMFG pineapples.  
**A/N: **I have nooooo idea. I'm a little brain dead after getting to 8,000+ words on my challenge piece and thinking to myself at that point that no, I didn't know what the point of the story I was writing was. Woops. O.o

* * *

Ryuuken is horrified at the small purple bruise that shows up on his neck when he looks into the mirror come morning, and grumbling, he heads to his closet to dig out something he can wear to work that will look decently respectable for a man of his profession and at the same time, cover up the mark that evidences Isshin's utter lack of control and regard for that profession.

Isshin in the mean time, whines bodily from the bed that Ryuu-chan shouldn't be mad with him because it's a love bite and love bites are for the people you _love_ and why, oh why, hadn't he given Isshin one back?

They're a sign of affection between lovers, aren't they? And while Isshin had been affectionate enough last night to give him several (not just on his neck, teeheehee), Ryuuken probably hadn't even gone through the trouble of giving him _one_ and how is that fair? Isn't Isshin loved in return?

Ryuuken's instinctive response to the other man's early morning lovelorn tirade is to sock him in the jaw, the result of which conveniently leaves a rather prominent purple bruise along the side of Isshin's face.

The Quincy, donning a white turtleneck that nicely covers his so-called "love bite," tells the other man very calmly, "There. We're even now."

Isshin immediately runs to the bathroom mirror to examine the "love punch," and grinning, admires it like he's just been given the best present any little boy could ever want _ever_. Turning to the other doctor from the doorway, he exclaims, "You must _really_ love me, ne Ryuu-chan?"

Ryuuken sighs and puts on his lab coat without another word, heading out of his room with the intent to go to work two hours early as Isshin begins another tirade about the "strength of Ryuu-chan's love" from the bathroom.

Kurosaki Isshin is the only man in the world the Quincy knows of who would be ecstatic over a good punch in the face.

Though Ryuuken supposes that if Isshin wants them, he's come to the right place.

**END**


	195. Fetishes

**195.**

**Title: **Fetishes  
**Rating: **R  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 756  
**Warning/s: **Um, no spoilers really, but dude, some weirdness in the smex area.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei tries something new in bed.  
**Dedication: **Er… too dirty to be dedicated, I think. O.o  
**A/N: **I think it's been a while since I tried something with a little pron, and so I decided to write this bit, and it kind of got a little carried away with the WEIRDNESS so hopefully I don't freak anyone out with it. I STAYED VAGUE A LITTLE at least?

* * *

Granted, he could just take the rest of Yumi's clothes off and get the benefit of the full view, but as he learned last week, there's something more deliciously naughty about copping a feel under the other man's robes, and Shuuhei lets himself indulge in that for a little while longer, running his fingers up Yumichika's sides and kneading the muscles in his lover's lower back, meanwhile watching his own hands work ambiguously under the curtain of his Yumi's uniform.

Yumi sighs softly in his ear and flexes his thighs around Shuuhei's waist, squeezing impatiently as Shuuhei dawdles under his clothes, some strange fascination with doing it half-clothed having been the trend with his lover lately.

"Nnnngh, Shuuhei, hurry up and do _something_," Yumi urges with a little puff of air, moving his hand down to begin undoing the vice-captain's hakama and maybe get things really _going_.

Shuuhei protests at the action and lifts Yumi off of his lap, laying his lover on his back on their bed. "Can I try something?" he asks, voice low in his throat as he surveys Yumi's tousled state of dress with a rather hungry gleam.

Yumi sighs. "Well, I was sort of hoping you _would_," he huffs, crossing his arms and looking up at the vice-captain. "We've been at this fifteen minutes now and we still have all our clothes on."

Shuuhei grins. "Yup, I know," he responds, leaning forward and sticking his hands into the slits along the side of Yumichika's hakama. "Wanna try something."

Yumi rolls his eyes at the declaration but arches his hips obligingly into Shuuhei's touch regardless, deciding to humor the other man if he's so intent on whatever it is he's got planned.

In retrospect, he probably should have known better.

Later, after Shuuhei's "something" has been tried, Yumi, panting and slightly disgusted, looks down at his ruined uniform with a frown. "That was a bit too messy, don't you think?"

Shuuhei, looking perfectly happy with himself, eyes his lover with a smug smile. "I dunno, I think it was kinda hot that way."

"My uniform is stained."

Shuuhei grins. "Might wanna wipe your face off a little too, babe."

Yumi pouts and runs the back of his hand along his chin, thinking that this all seems to have stemmed from last week's adventure in intra-division assembly quickies. Yamamoto had been giving a speech and it'd been kind of crowded with everyone there, and they'd gotten bored and Shuuhei had gotten an idea and well… yeah. Looking back on it now, Yumi thinks that maybe it had been a bad idea to let his lover try what they tried.

Seeing as to how it seems to have given birth to Shuuhei's latest clothing fetish.

Yumi sighs at the thought and wipes his hand on his already dirtied outfit, telling his lover very matter-of-factly that, "Next time, we're getting naked. I mean it. Not a shred on either of us."

Shuuhei laughs at Yumi's huffy tone and rolls onto his side, tugging the other man into his arms. "Aw, c'mon, you gotta admit, the thing with the back side of our hakama was sorta fun."

Yumi makes a face but squirms to get comfortable in Shuuhei's embrace anyway. "But was the fun really worth the mess?"

"Sure it was," Shuuhei responds easily, yawning and burying his nose into Yumi's hair. "You screamed loud enough to wake the five nearest divisions, remember?"

Yumi punches him half-heartedly in the chest at the reminder, though he can't really deny it. "Next time we're getting naked," he reiterates, burrowing further into the circle of his lover's embrace. "And tomorrow, you're doing the laundry."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Pause. "Hey… if I promise to always do the laundry afterwards, think we can try that again sometime?"

Wrinkling his nose, Yumi thinks about it for a moment. "Maybe. Well, everything but that thing you did with your armband."

Shuuhei blinks. "You didn't like that?"

"Was a little bit weird."

The vice-captain looks over on the other side of the bed at his discarded vice-captain's insignia. "Really?"

"Yup."

"Huh."

A beat.

"How about if I…"

"No."

"But you didn't even hear me out."

Yumi thinks he's learned his lesson well enough by now to know that letting Shuuhei experiment with something when he's bored might result in the development of another strange fetish, and glancing at his dirty clothing, the eleventh division shinigami decides right then and there that the one is enough for the both of them.

"No more badges."

"Damn."

**END**


	196. Abnormal

**196.**

**Title: **Abnormal  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Keigo, Mizuiro  
**Word Count:** 711  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 195  
**Summary:** Keigo and Mizuiro speculate about the new kids.  
**Dedication: **JaB for drawing me pron (which she WILL) and to chirachira for the great BOOB icon (also, special thanks to kiradouji for leading me to it. ).  
**A/N: **Keigo is just silly and I felt a little silly just now. --;; Um, I suppose I should just warn that I might get some small details wrong in this because I FORGET them when I write and so you'll just have to ignore my stupidity for the time being, right?

* * *

The new kids are all a little hard to explain, but Keigo thinks that out of the bunch, there's really something notably wrong with the small one.

For one thing, he seems to be rather annoyed whenever Matsumoto's cleavage gets in his personal space, which is reason enough to suspect him of freakish abnormality bordering on psychosis, given the fact that Keigo would trade his left nut to get to have his face buried in that magnificent chest.

When he asks Mizuiro about it, the other boy simply shrugs and says that maybe Toushirou is much younger than them given that he's some sort of genius according to the others, and he just hasn't' hit puberty yet.

Keigo is of the opinion that proximity to Matsumoto's chest would _induce_ puberty, but he supposes that if he has to, he can associate Histugaya's younger age to his inability to properly appreciate what he gets hit in the face with so often.

But even still, there's something _additionally_ wrong with the little fellow, and Keigo is absolutely certain that _this_ kind of behavior isn't normal _anywhere._

"Out of my way peons. I have important business to conduct," Toushirou orders, pushing his way through a few people gathered in front of the boys' toilet.

The other kids murmur amongst themselves but let him pass regardless, because if he needs to go to the bathroom _that_ badly it's probably in their best interests to let him, before the little baby pees all over the floor or something.

Keigo remembers being in the restroom at the same time as the kid once under such a circumstance and recalls hearing him murmur something about orders into a device that looked like a woman's makeup compact.

When he brought _that_ up with Mizuiro, the other boy simply shrugged and said that he'd been talking with Abarai the other day, and in the course of the conversation, discovered that Histugaya was on only child. That could account for some of the boy's erratic behavior, on top of his younger age.

Keigo reminds Mizuiro that he's an only child himself and that Keigo might as well be, and that the only time _he's_ ever used a compact was in the sixth grade on a dare from a cute girl who promised to kiss him if he let her make him over.

Mizuiro in turn, reminds his friend that the girl never kissed him, and that the pictures that had circulated afterwards with Keigo in drag had been subject to some pretty intense debates themselves.

Keigo can't argue with that, really, and concedes that perhaps Toushirou's abnormalities in _that_ respect can be written off on his lack of siblings to play with growing up.

But, he continues to argue, what about the white hair? Kids don't have white hair. It's abnormal. It's kind of freakish.

Mizuiro sips his juice box and shrugs one shoulder, saying that Ichigo's hair is orange and that's abnormal too, but he's never complained about it before.

Keigo scowls at him and slumps slightly, telling his friend that his pragmatism is just draining out all the previously fun mystery surrounding the new kids.

Mizuiro, feeling vaguely apologetic at killing the excitement, suggests on a whim, that maybe it's a little weird for Kuchiki-san to be climbing into the classroom from the second-story window as often as she does.

Keigo jumps to her defense immediately, citing that a creature of such extraordinary grace as Kuchiki-san should do as she pleases and should most definitely, not be constrained to following the normal, uninteresting actions of any mediocre teenage high school students, such as, for instance, entering a classroom through the _door_.

Mizuiro doesn't quite know how to respond to that, and the two of them sit in silence for a while afterwards, trying to think of something else to talk about during what's left of their lunch break.

After a few minutes, Mizuiro tentatively brings up the topic of Abarai's strange tattoos, and as a result, inadvertently revives the conversation (thus saving their precious lunch period from silence), as Keigo latches on to the topic with renewed fervor and begins a long, detailed rant on Renji's strange, inhuman body markings, which, happily, takes up the remainder of their lunchtime.

**END**


	197. Date Labor

**197.**

**Title: **Date Labor  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** GanjyuxHanatarou, Kuukaku  
**Word Count:** 823  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but lots of FLUFF!  
**Summary:** Ganjyu and Hanatarou perform some late-autumn chores for Kuukaku.  
**Dedication: **Jen, who is in the process of making me my very own GanjyuxHana icon! 3  
**A/N: ** I haven't written these two in a while, have I? Oh dear.

* * *

They've been raking up leaves for a good while now, Ganjyu having given up on trying to blow the falling foliage to oblivion with his kidoh after they both realized that the resulting energy blast only shook more leaves from the branches, doubling their work and reducing Ganjyu's energy in the process.

So it's the old fashioned way for them now, and with it they've managed to get several good-sized piles about them, the Shiba family's surrounding property finally showing some signs of cleanliness as the two of them attempted to get everything cleared away late enough in the fall that really, seireitei's first snow storm could hit at any moment.

Hanatarou doesn't mind the raking because he's in the fourth division and consequently, has done much dirtier types of chores, but Ganjyu thinks it's rather degrading for his sister to make them _both_ come out here and slave away when they're supposed to be on a nice date somewhere _far_ away from her single, tyrannical hand.

Hanatarou does his best to comfort Ganjyu on that point, citing that this sort of thing can be fun sometimes too, and that it doesn't really matter where they are and what they're doing if they're together, right?

Ganjyu snorts at that but his protests quell slightly, though he still doesn't look too pleased with the situation as he continues raking in the leaves from around the walk, pushing them into the pile next to Hanatarou that's beginning to become about the same size as the little death god.

"See? It's not so bad, Ganjyu! We're almost done," Hanatarou encourages, neatly depositing another bunch of leaves into the mound.

"Well ya don't gotta be so cheerful about it," Ganjyu replies, rubbing at the back of his head as he watches Hanatarou toddle about, picking up great big armfuls of dead foliage.

Hanatarou laughs sheepishly and smiles at Ganjyu anyway. At that, the larger man is suddenly torn between wanting to wrap the cute little guy up in his own arms or chucking him headfirst into the product of their past few hours' labor for being so damn upbeat about everything. After a moment, Ganjyu throws his rake down and opts for both options, grabbing Yamada around the waist and dive-bombing them both into the pile, the two of them landing into the soft bedding with Hanatarou's startled yelp, the shinigami wrapped up tight in Ganjyu's arms and covered in leaves on almost every side.

The little death god looks down questioningly at Ganjyu for the surprise attack, and Ganjyu merely grins up smugly, stating imperiously that, "This is what you get for bein' so damn complacent about neesan's slave labor."

Hanatarou smiles shyly at the teasing accusation and folds his arms on the larger man's chest before resting his chin atop them. "This isn't really that bad, is it?"

Ganjyu chuckles and leans up to press a kiss against Yamada's forehead. "Che. Could be better, if ya ask me."

"Oh?" Hanatarou blinks patiently back at Ganjyu and awaits an elaboration.

Ganjyu rolls his eyes and lets his head fall back against the pillow of leaves, sighing hopelessly to himself. "That was an invitation to make it better, Hana."

"Oh!" Hanatarou looks apologetically at the other man. "Was it?"

"Yup. Totally aren't payin' attention to me at all, are ya?" Ganjyu laments melodramatically, turning his head aside and away from Hanatarou forlornly.

"Sorry," the death god apologizes with a small smile, leaning forward and gently kissing the corner of Ganjyu's mouth.

"Well, that's a little better," the taller man concedes with mock reluctance, turning back to face the shinigami. "But ya know, I had somethin' a little more…'

Hanatarou takes it as his cue to really kiss him.

That was more like it.

"Oi! What the heck are you two idiots doin' huh? Hurry up and get that stuff swept up! Dinner's on in thirty minutes and if either of you isn't finished and cleaned up by the time it's done we're all gonna eat without you!"

Ganjyu groans as his sister's roar echoes around the property just as things are starting to pick up for him, and falling back with a sigh, he looks up at Hanatarou with a mixture of mirth and exasperation. "Back to work, runt."

Hanatarou, looking apologetic on Kuukaku's behalf, nods. "Aa."

Which prompts Ganjyu to steal another quick kiss because he _has_ to at that, hand reaching up to brush the side of Yamada's jaw. "But I guess you're right," he concedes when they part, voice slightly gravelly. "This can be kinda fun, given the right company."

When Hanatarou blushes pink at that, Ganjyu chuckles and stands them both up, thinking to himself as he picks up the rake again, that this is quickly turning into a pretty good date after all.

Though all the same, he tells himself that next time, he'll go pick Hanatarou up from _his_ place instead.

**END**


	198. Shore Leave

**198.**

**Title: **Shore Leave  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 676  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for 195 (indirectly?)  
**Summary:** Companion drabble to #176 (Left Behind)- A brief respite from separation, a heartwarming reunion.   
**Dedication: **kalongchan for the promise of fanart and for being a willing convert to this, my OTP. Thanks!  
**A/N: **I'm going to hell for buying into this particular little fetish, but DUDE The image is absolutely amazing in my head so I justify it with the fact that for these two, it would be HOT goddammit. Hot. thoughtful Now I want pron. --;; DRAW IT FOR ME BECK-SENPAI! C'mon PLEEEEEEEEASE?

* * *

The day Yumichika was given leave to return to seireitei from his current assignment, he showed up at Shuuhei's office in the middle of the day with a bundle in his arms and wearing clothing that had garnered several odd stares from the other death gods as he'd passed them on the way to the ninth division headquarters. 

He knew he looked amazing.

The fact was only further confirmed when he stepped into an unsuspecting Shuuhei's work quarters, leaning against the doorframe invitingly before clearing his throat in order to gain the attention of the room's only other occupant.

When Shuuhei looked up, he promptly dropped his brush.

Yumi smiled at the flattering reaction. "I'm home."

Shuuhei stared. "Yumi… you… you're…"

The other death god nodded, "Yup, I am," he agreed, gently smoothing his hands over the front of his white shirt. "As promised."

Shuuhei gaped a little while longer.

Swallowed.

"There's… really a bow," he uttered stupidly, not caring that his brush was leaving a growing spot of ink on whatever paperwork he'd been engaged in moments ago.

Yumi looked at Shuuhei with a sort of sparkling, amused fondness, smirking a little wickedly as he fluffed the red decoration on his chest. "There is indeed a bow. And look…isn't this the _cutest _skirt ever?" he asked with a faux innocence that made Shuuhei squirm in his chair, doing a little pirouette in place to show off his second favorite feature of the outfit.

Shuuhei watched in utter fascination, as the pleats of the school uniform swished invitingly around his lover's knees.

"Skirt…" he murmured dumbly.

Yumi, chuckling to himself at the vice-captain's glazed-over expression, adjusted his knee socks before taking the bundle he'd been carrying and tossing it at the other man. "I brought you one too."

Shuuhei's brow furrowed at his lover's words. "A skirt?"

Yumi rolled his eyes. "Of course not." He smirked and gestured to the gift. "Open it."

Given his current inability to think or really do anything at all of his own volition with Yumi dressed like that, Shuuhei automatically began to open the bundle.

And pulled out what appeared to be… a tie? A…jacket?

…_Glasses?_

He looked back up at his lover questioningly. "Yumi? What are…"

Yumi simply grinned and hopped up onto the corner of Shuuhei's desk spryly, crossing his legs at the knee and smoothing his skirt down over his hips.

Shuuhei immediately forgot what his question was.

"Well? Put them on," Yumichika instructed, winking invitingly. "Promise it'll be fun."

Shuuhei did as he was told, thinking that maybe he was beginning to develop an unhealthy fascination with those knee socks as he did.

Once the vice-captain was dressed, Yumichika leaned back so he was more comfortably lounging on the desk, innocently admiring the commemorations decorating the walls of Hisagi's office.

Shuuhei, feeling awkward in the glasses, looked purposefully away from the display. "Er…what're we, exactly gonna…"

"Ne…_sensei…_ I forgot your last lesson," Yumi began sweetly, looking down at the desk and tucking his hair behind his ear, "can you go over it again with me right _now_?"

Shuuhei blinked. "Mur?"

Lesson?

_Sensei?_

"Yumi…what…"

"_Please_, sensei?" Yumi pressed, pretending not to hear. Sighing cutely, he uncrossed his legs and leaned further back. "I promise to behave," he added, looking up through his lashes at the vice-captain with a little smile.

"You promise to… Oh."

_Oh._

Now he got it.

Shuuhei grinned and adjusted his glasses at the realization, standing up from his chair rather enthusiastically at the prospect of getting under that pleated wonder of a skirt. "Um. Yes. So uh, what part um, didn't you understand, miss-student-san?"

Yumi, laughing sweetly at the other man's eagerness, grabbed the vice-captain's tie and wrapped it around his hand, yanking Shuuhei forward with a happy sigh. "Everything,sensei. I missed it _all_."

And as Shuuhei showed him all of that everything he'd forgotten in the last few weeks while he'd been at school, Yumi thought that this was really the only class he ever wanted to come to.

Double-entendre intended.

**END**


	199. Beck and Call

**199.**

**Title: **Beck and Call  
**Rating: **PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 982 (close one, huh? O.o)  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but some WAFFY OOCness.   
**Summary:** Ukitake occasionally likes to be lavished with attention.  
**Dedication: **Jen- she suggested I close off the 200 with these two somewhere in the last few, so dude, yes.  
**A/N: **Seriously, I just wanted FLUFF. And so here we are. Again.

* * *

Ukitake likes to think that he is magnanimous enough to not take advantage of Kyouraku's good nature and unassuming personality, but even so, there are some times when he thinks it's not so bad to let oneself be pampered given that there's someone out there willing to do the pampering.

So once in a while, Ukitake finds himself giving in to his compulsions and curling up against Shunsui on his most tiring days, hoping that he will be utterly spoiled, that his lover will pet and kiss and touch him very sweetly and gently, lavishing shameful amounts of attention on the white-haired captain as if the other man had nothing else to do in the world.

It's horrible of him, and he always feels rather bad for taking such advantage of Kyouraku's easy-going personality afterwards, but sometimes, perhaps after a hard day or recent illness, he just needs to be spoiled.

This is one of those days, and he finds himself at the eighth division headquarters in the middle of the afternoon, cutting out on his own work early because he is exhausted and needs a reminder as to why this job is still rewarding, despite all the stress it causes.

He slips into Shunsui's office and very quietly, looks around in search of the other captain.

Shunsui is there at his desk, literally up to his nose in paperwork with Nanao nagging him about his lack of responsibility and how it has led to this mountain of in-files and infantile trickle of out-files.

He laughs at her and tells her that little trickles are responsible for carving mountains into canyons, given enough time.

She tells him she will kill him before she allows a millennium to pass as he slowly cuts through his mountain of work at the rate he's going.

Ukitake frowns and thinks that maybe he should come back later, given that it looks like one of those rare days when Shunsui is actually _working_. It would be a horrible thing for him to throw Shunsui off his rhythm now, given how hard it is to get him _on_ it in the first place when it comes to paperwork.

That decided, he turns to slip out of the room before either of the other two shinigami notice him, only to come face-to-face with a smiling Kyouraku, who, leaning in the doorway of his own office, asks, "Ne, Jyuu-chan, were you just gonna leave without a word? Ahhh, that breaks my heart."

Ukitake blinks and Nanao blinks and follows her blinking up with a screech at her captain about not going anywhere, "don't you_ dare._"

"Nanao-chan, I have an appointment with Ukitake-taichou. Totally slipped my mind. Can you go outside and put all my other duties on hold while I take care of this?"

"It's okay; I can come back later if you're busy…" Ukitake starts, with an apologetic look at Ise for having caused Shunsui to vacate his chair.

"I'm never too busy to meet with you," Kyouraku assures him, taking his hand and leading him back into the office. "You know that, Jyuu-chan."

"It's nothing important, I promise," Ukitake protests again, though he doesn't fight as Shunsui leads him to the other chair in the room.

"But taichou… we need to…"

Shunsui turns and gives his vice-captain a gentle look, and stopping mid-sentence, she sighs resignedly. "Very well. Please inform me when you are ready to resume, taichou."

He winks at her. "You bet."

And strangely enough, she doesn't fight him any more, but bows to Ukitake as she leaves the room without another word.

"I mean it, Shunsui, I can come back…" Ukitake begins again, moving to stand.

"Ah, nonsense," Kyouraku murmurs, putting his hands on Jyuushirou's cheeks and leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on the other man's forehead. "You are my most important business, always."

Ukitake likes to think that he doesn't take advantage of Kyouraku's good nature very often, but he knows he does nonetheless, because it's hard sometimes, when he's so tired or just getting over being sick, and what he needs is to be pampered a bit at those times, to be spoiled and know that there's someone out there willing to drop everything without a thought and catch him should he need it.

He doesn't like himself very much when he makes Shunsui do this, but the other man is so _willing_ that it's hard to pass up once you've felt how reliable, how solid and unyielding Kyouraku's affection is, and Ukitake finds himself wanting to just fall into it on the hardest of his days, to let himself be wrapped up by the person who considers him the most precious thing in the world.

Later, when he hates himself a little bit as he's curled up in Shunsui's arms with his head pillowed against the other captain's shoulder, Ukitake can't help but ask Kyouraku why the other captain is willing to just drop everything at an instant on Ukitake's behalf.

"Ah Jyuu-chan," Shunsui breathes at the question, stroking Ukitake's hair gently, "don't you see? You're very wrong," he chastises with a warm chuckle. "It's entirely selfish on my part."

Ukitake frowns at him. "Shunsui, don't be silly…"

Kyouraku cuts him off with a kiss, sweet and almost chaste in its familiarity, and when they break apart, he murmurs, "Being needed is one of the most wonderful things in the world, Jyuu-chan."

Ukitake is skeptical. "Really?"

"Of course." Pause. "Though… to be honest, having as good-looking a person as Jyuu-chan needing me helps."

When Ukitake sighs resignedly at that ill-timed comment, Kyouraku, laughing, buries his nose into Jyuushirou's hair as the other man attempts to squirm out of his hold, thinking to himself that while being needed by this man is one sort of wonderful thing, loving him is an even more wonderful other.

Unquestionably something worth dropping everything for.

**END**


	200. Delinquent Behavior

**200.**

**Title: **Delinquent Behavior  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Gotei-13 Captains  
**Word Count:** 617  
**Warning/s: **No real warnings.  
**Summary:** The captains are bored during a meeting.  
**Dedication: **Vinnie- for helping me fix the spacing in this. OMG LEIK THX SO MUCH.  
**A/N: **There's just something about delinquent behavior from the shinigami that tickles my fancy. Plus I'm BORED in class too. --;; Er, and while I'm at it, I guess I should say…here we are, again. Another hundred down. Weird, huh? O.o

* * *

Captains' assemblies in seireitei tend to be, more often than not, mind-numbingly boring. As such, the leaders of Soul Society's thirteen teams have, throughout history, devised ways in which to keep themselves and each other entertained during the worst of these meetings in order to preserve their sanity when faced with one of Yamamoto's more redundant protocol speeches. 

This is one of those ways.

Kurotsuchi Mayuri blinks when he feels a piece of paper bounce off of his head, and turning sideways to glare at an innocent looking Kenpachi, he grabs it and unwraps it.

And so it begins.

_ Hey,  
You smell.  
-Zaraki_

_ Zaraki,  
I do not. YOU smell.  
-Mayuri _

_ Hey Drunk-guy,  
Don't you think Mayuri smells?  
-Zaraki_

_ Dear Zaraki and Mayuri,  
You both smell a little.  
-Kyouraku_

_ Drunk-guy,  
Shut it, old man.  
-Zaraki _

_ Ne… Jyuu-chan _( :D )_,  
Am I an old man? _--;;_  
-Your Shun-chan _( ;) )

_ Shunsui,  
Please don't fraternize with those two delinquents in front of everyone like that._  
…_it's embarrassing for someone your age.  
-Jyuushirou _( :P )

_ Ukitake,  
I didn't know you took part in such illicit activities during meetings. It's a little bit cute of you, don't you think?  
-Sousuke_

_ Aizen-taichou,  
Ne, ne, what're you talking about? I wanna play too! XD  
-Gin_

_Aizen,  
I was merely telling Shunsui to stop misbehaving. _--;;_  
-Ukitake_

_ Gin,  
We'll play later. Was that a doodle of us fucking on your last note?_ --;;_  
-Aizen_

_ Aizen-taichou,  
Kira was in it too… didn't you see?  
-Gin_

_ All idiots involved,  
Please cease this uncouth behavior immediately. You are making a mockery of this entire institution.  
-Kuchiki Byakuya_

_ Rich Boy,  
You smell the most.  
-Zaraki _

_ To whom it may concern,_  
…_I do not.  
-Kuchiki Byakuya_

_ Rich Boy,  
Do too.  
-Zaraki _

_ Everyone who's making so much noise,  
Someone please tell me what's going on. I can't see.  
-Tousen Kaname_

_ Kana-chan _( :D )_,  
I'm drawing porn! _XD_  
-Gin _

_ Gin,  
Komamura expresses his distaste after having to read me your missive. Please don't write me notes about pornography when you know I have to have someone read them to me.  
-Tousen _

_ Kana-chin,  
I'm sorry! Look, this time I drew porn of you and Komamura instead! Here you go!  
-Gin_

_ Ichimaru,  
Lewd pictures of me and Tousen are dishonorable and I will not stand for it. Apologize immediately or face my wrath. __  
-Komamura_

_ You three,  
No need to fight now. We're all here to play nice, aren't we?  
-Aizen _

_ Useless idiots,  
This foolishness is an abomination of the shinigami uniform. I should kill you all where you stand.  
-Soi Fong_

_ Shortie,  
I was wrong about Rich Boy. YOU smell the most.  
-Zaraki_

_ Insolent fool,  
I'll rip your insides out and string them up like so many festival decorations all around your division headquarters such that your useless minions can wander around aimlessly in a rain of your own blood.  
And I do not.  
-Soi Fong_

_ Shortie,  
Man, you really smell a lot. I can't even breathe over here it stinks so bad.  
-Zaraki_

_ Zaraki-san,  
No one smells here. It goes against proper hygienic protocol as overseen by the fourth division. However, I do suggest that you take a bath sometime soon to stay within the aforementioned parameters. Thank you.  
-Unohana Retsu_

_Grandma,  
…you suck.  
-Zaraki_

_ Dear _former_ pillars of honor and integrity who are supposed to represent the entire court of seireitei and all the shinigami within it,  
Stop passing notes immediately and return your attention to my presentation. Thank you.  
-Yamamoto Genryuusai _

Everyone blinks and looks up from their activities sheepishly, Yamamoto staring at them from the front of the room with his arms crossed, one snowy brow arched expectantly. "May I continue, then?"

"Ah, yes sir!"

**END**


	201. World's Greatest

**201.**

**Title:** World's Greatest  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Ryuuken**  
Word Count:** 346  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but again, rampant speculation on the family life of the Ishidas.   
**Summary:** Ryuuken is a hero.  
**Dedication:** My papa, who I miss. --;;  
**A/N: ** …I should have just stopped at 200, huh? Aheh.

* * *

There was once a time, long, long ago, when Ishida Ryuuken wanted to save everyone.

He wanted to save the world.

Doctor by day, curing cancer, delivering babies, setting bones, treating illnesses.

Quincy by night, saving innocent ghosts or spiritually dense humans from the jaws of the Hollows.

He wanted to do it all. Save everyone, living and dead.

Because what was life if the strong didn't protect the weak? What kind of man would he have been if he hadn't used his abilities to help others, living or dead?

He thought he could save the world.

To this day, a part of him still does.

Except now, his world has narrowed from thousands of unnamed patients and wandering souls to the son who looks up at him and doesn't quite understand him, the child who is a mirror image of himself many years ago, a youth who feels as though he can save the world with his own two hands if he tries hard enough, cares hard enough.

Uryuu is Ryuuken's world now, and he's determined to save his son from the very things that destroyed him once, the man who thought he could save everyone.

Because that so-called hero failed to save the other half of his world many years prior, and in thinking he could save everyone, Ryuuken only really destroyed everything precious around him.

Because a long time ago, he thought he could save everyone.

And ended up losing her.

And so he holds on to what he has left, his world, this one motherless child, and hopes that somehow, he can teach a boy who is just like him to learn the very thing that he'd been forced to learn the hard way.

That as strong as they are, they can't save everyone.

It's not easy sometimes, and he doesn't always think he can do it, but there's a part of Ryuuken that, despite everything he's lost, still believes he can save the world.

Even if it consists solely of Uryuu.

Because for Ryuuken, it's the only world that matters anymore.

**END**


	202. Out from the Cold

**  
202.**

**Title:** Out From the Cold  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Tousen, Komamura (could be seen as slightly KomaxTou)**  
Word Count:** 559  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Tousen endures the cold.  
**Dedication:** Yoshi, who can steam up car interiors just by sitting in one. O.o  
**A/N: ** There is just something about this one that's…off. Way off. I'm not sure what it is. Think the pacing might be um, stupid. Or something. Too brain-dead to fix, so is as is, I suppose. ARGH.

* * *

Komamura was always very warm.

It was the first thing Tousen remembers associating with his large friend, a sort of radiating warmth that came from the other shinigami's comforting presence, a thing that, for Kaname's enhanced sense of touch, told him more about Sajin than seeing him ever could.

It was a warmth that called out to those who wanted to come in out of the cold.

And perhaps, it had called out to Kaname on that fateful first meeting between them, when he'd unwittingly bumped into his friend.

It was very rare for him to ever stumble, and he thinks that the day, a part of his clumsiness had been intentional.

It had been the first time in a long time that he'd reached out with his own hand for someone else.

Kaname remembers, after the death of one precious person, how frozen he had felt.

And meeting Komamura for the first time had felt like coming inside.

Kaname thinks that if he hadn't reached out for the other death god, he would have ended long ago. But instead, he can thank whatever higher power that had been watching over him that day when he remembers how it had felt to extend his hand towards the solid warmth Sajin offered, to sit in his wake and let his companion's gentle heat soak into his own chilled bones.

From that moment on he had latched on to Sajin, had clutched that steady fire in his hand and let it warm his heart, let it rekindle the ideals left like empty stone monuments by the death of his first precious person.

Komamura had sparked life back into those pillars left impersonal, had for Tousen, resurrected them as realities, as living, breathing beliefs that burned righteous fire deep into the depths of Kaname's previously doubting heart.

Komamura's touch reminded Kaname what it felt like to have someone worth fighting for.

It was like coming home.

And that is why he is doing this, sitting in this place far away from the touch that warmed his heart, an exile. A betrayer.

Alone.

Because it was Sajin's touch that fanned the fading embers of idealism back to life in Tousen's heart, and the fire that roars there now believes that the work he is doing here will create an ideal world, a place where it can be warm and wonderful for everyone.

It is for Komamura that Tousen is here in this lonely in-between, waiting for Aizen-sama to bring about the new world.

It is because of Komamura that Kaname is willing to sit here as he feels a sinister cold coming upon him in this place, one that seeps into the very depths of his insides.

He shivers, hugging his knees against his chest and thinking to himself very calmly, that he must endure for now. He will feel warm again soon enough.

They all will.

So for the time being, he rubs his hands together and breathes into them, a feeble imitation of his friend's comforting touch.

But that shadow of warmth is enough to keep him going, to keep a glowing ember buried deep in his own heart, constant and ready, waiting for life to come again.

He folds his arms in around himself and says quietly, "Soon, soon."

Soon it will be time to come in from the cold.

**END**


	203. Tough Guy

**203.**

**Title:** Tough Guy  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Renji, Yumichika, Tatsuki**  
Word Count:** 460  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 195+  
**Summary:** Renji, like Rukia, needs to update his source materials.  
**Dedication:** Kelly- who is studying hard while I waste time writing instead of doing my OMG TONS OF READING.  
**A/N: ** I think that school is going to kick my ass very much this year if I keep procrastinating like this. Aheh.

* * *

There had been severe speculation going about the school as of late, most of it regarding the multitude and significance of new student Abarai Renji's rather prolific body tattoos.

Some students thought that they were gang or cult markings, signs of his seniority in some sort of secret clan that insisted on branding the most loyal of its members.

Others thought that he may have been exposed to some sort of strange American counter-culture that demanded self-mutilation as some sort of outer representation of inner turmoil and rebellion against "the man."

And still others believed that he was some sort of monk with the sacred text of his order printed onto his body for safekeeping, thinking that the tattoos were some sort of magic or lost kung-fu art or even more fantastic, the key to opening a portal that would lead into the mouth of hell itself.

The more rational students suggested that maybe he just thought of himself as some sort of tough guy.

The tattoos certainly lent a sort of hands-off mystique about the redheaded student, giving him an aura of schoolyard bully and aspiring prison inmate all rolled into one.

Most students decided on the basis of his rather intimidating appearance, to steer clear of Abarai's way.

Arisawa Tatsuki, not one to listen to any of the gossip that circulated the halls of her far too often, missed the memo.

But to be fair, it seemed as though Renji had failed to listen to any of the gossip pertaining to Arisawa's reputation as well.

And thus the scene was set for their fateful meeting.

Renji, in an attempt to be gentlemanly to Inoue's tom-boyishly cute friend one day, offered to carry the box of equipment she was hauling to her after-school club, citing that, "Pretty young ladies shouldn't be carrying such heavy things for men's activities when there are capable gentlemen around to do it instead."

Needless to say, Tatsuki had not taken his attempt at chivalry well. It might have been how he'd worded it, though he still isn't completely sure about that to this day.

Regardless of wording, later, when Abarai was conscious again and nursing a badly swollen jaw, Ayasekawa very cheerfully informed him that the data book the vice-captain had been reading on earth etiquette in preparation for their mission was outdated by a good half century and that they just didn't _say _those sorts of things to women in the human world anymore. Mostly.

Renji thanked the sparkling fifth-chair rather sarcastically and asked if Yumichika couldn't have told him that _before_ the death of his reputation.

Because after having passed out from that one solid sock to the jaw, the other kids in school didn't even believe Renji's tattoos were _real_ anymore.

**END**


	204. Between Rivals

**204.**

**Title:** Between Rivals  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Implied Ichigo+Rukia, and Renji+Rukia**  
Word Count:** 741  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for up through Ch 195.  
**Summary:** Ichigo would have been okay never seeing her again.  
**Dedication:** Jen- You know, this started out as a contest entry and became something TOTALLY different I don't know why. Um… yeah. Sorry. --;;  
**A/N: ** Emo Ichigo? I can't really explain it either. sigh

* * *

Honestly, he hadn't been expecting to see her again.

It hadn't been the most pleasant thought, to be sure, but there had been something about leaving her like that that made it okay in its own way, because at least when they'd parted ways as they had, it had been with the knowledge that he hadn't let her down.

He thinks that if she had never seen him again, if his leaving Soul Society in triumph had been the last way she looked at his face, he would have been okay with that.

Because there's something unbearable about the thought of failing her that strikes him when he sits beside her in class now, she listening intently to the lesson while he feels like he's a thousand miles away and fading, disappearing piece by piece even though he's right next to her and she still looks at him like nothing's different at all.

He thinks it would have been okay, if she had never seen him again.

Because he feels that something horrible is upon them, and as glad as he is to be beside her after he thought he'd never see her again, he thinks that he would have been happier if her last memory of him had been the moment of his greatest success.

It would have been okay at that time, if he never saw her again.

If she never had to face the possibility that one day, he might fail her.

That thought alone is almost more frightening than everything that has been happening to him lately, the way he can picture in his mind, how she might look at him should he let her down like the others. It's almost unbearable.

And the more he thinks about it, the more he finds himself wishing that she hadn't come back at all. Not after what happened when he failed Chad and Orihime.

She is the last person in the world he wants to let down.

And the closer she is to him, he thinks, the greater the chances are of that happening.

The anxiety is overwhelming enough that one day, he takes Renji aside during lunch, and mustering up what parts of him he feels are still all there, he tells his rival, "If it comes down to it, I want you to promise me you'll kill me before I even have the time to_ think_ about hurting her."

Renji is perplexed by the thinly veiled plea from the man he considers his greatest opponent, and arching a brow, asks, "Not that your request ain't tempting, but what brought this on, exactly, kid?"

"Nothing," Ichigo assures the vice-captain, sticking his hands into his pockets and looking out over the edge of the school's roof. "It's just something I'm askin', okay?"

Renji's brow furrows and he crosses his arms, taking the time to regard the young human thoughtfully. "Kill you huh? Suppose that'd be like doin' the world a favor, right? Heh."

Ichigo smirks at the ironic truth behind Abarai's jab. "Thought you would like that. Now you gonna promise me or what?"

Renji snorts. "Che. Don't gotta. I'da killed you anyway, ya did something like that to her. Punk-ass brat."

Ichigo doesn't rise to the bait like Renji expects, but instead, looks up into the sky and breathes deeply, looking satisfied with Abarai's answer, as if a great weight has suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. "Alright then."

And Renji doesn't say anything, but the look in Ichigo's eye as he says that suddenly makes the redhead feel truly unsettled for the first time since coming up here with the young human.

Rukia finds them like that some moments later, sitting quietly. Suspicious, she asks them, "What are the two of you doing?"

Ichigo turns his head then, the first movement he's made since the last words were said between he and Renji. "Nothin'. Just talking."

Renji swallows, eyes still trained on Kurosaki with a mixture of vague fear and confusion. "Uh… yeah. Talkin'."

"About what?"

"Nothin'," Ichigo reiterates, turning to look into Renji's eyes very, very calmly. "Just guy stuff."

Renji manages to hold Ichigo's gaze for a moment before he sees something there that inexplicably, forces him to tear his eyes away from the orange-haired human. "Yeah," he murmurs weakly, "guy stuff."

She sighs, growing impatient with their reticence. "You're probably both being idiots about something or other, aren't you?"

Neither of them denies it.

**END**


	205. Brilliant Flashes of Light

**205.**

**Title:** Brilliant Flashes of Light  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** IchigoxRukia**  
Word Count:** 824  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers that I can think of.  
**Summary:** Ichigo is dying.   
**Dedication:** Jenkat, who said I should just do a drabble for the entry since I'm swamped.-- ;;  
**A/N: ** I have a Japanese test tomorrow and I think I'm in trouble. Thus, the rather rushed nature of this entry. Yay. But it's done, and that was the ultimate purpose I suppose. Plus, I don't hate it. Also, just a quick note, I haven't read any of the other contest entries given that I just don't have the time, so if this sounds cliché or like any of the others I just want to say I'm sorry, I didn't know!-- ;;

* * *

There are brief flashes of light- there and gone again in the span of a second. So short that she might have missed them had she not been looking for them in the first place.

But just because she can't see them anymore doesn't mean they're not there, and she narrows her eyes, concentrating her gaze on the air just above the water of the garden's small pond, waiting to see the next flash of life.

Inside, Ichigo is dying.

She sits outside on the back porch and watches the fireflies shine over the water, lightning flickers of momentary light that give way to nothing an instant later, barely there, really, but a presence nonetheless.

Something that immediately catches her eye.

Inside, Ichigo is dying and she hears his voice, shooing the mourners from his bedside, telling them to please shut up and stop crying because he was going to be fine.

This merely elicits a louder cry from the two girls, as big as they are now, and they beg him to calm down and rest, to save his waning strength.

The men tell their sisters to stop making so much noise and usher them out of the room as per father's wishes, patting the girls' backs and telling them that if father says he will be fine, he will be.

Their definitions of fine had always been very different.

Rukia sits outside and with her knees tucked against her chest, watches the sparkling dance of carefully orchestrated fades and illuminations as they zip above the still water.

On and off, on and off, gone in the blink of an eye.

Inside, she feels Ichigo die.

There and gone again.

"Mother, don't you want to see…"

She looks up and smiles a little, one gentle son in the door as the other three children peer out from behind him, girls' eyes streaked with tears as husbands futility try to console them and brothers staying their own grief in order to care for mother and their younger sisters.

Flashes of light on a chill autumn evening.

Rukia shakes her head and turns her gaze back out over the water, feeling overwhelming love for a family that doesn't seem to fully understand.

"Your father's fine," she assures them all, resting her chin on her knees.

Ichiro, perplexed, understands his mother enough to know when to not-understand. So he merely sighs and backs from the door, herding his younger brother back into the warmth of the house while Masaki and Hisana bury their noses into their husbands' shoulders and sob even louder.

Rukia smiles tiredly and waits for the next brilliant flash of life.

When it comes again, she sighs and tilts her head back, closing her eyes as a rush of familiarity envelops her in shining warmth.

When she opens her eyes again, he's standing beside her like he promised her he always would, glowing bright enough that she can't see the fireflies on the water anymore.

She stands to greet him, slow on these, her aged bones, and with an immense joy crinkling at the corners of her careworn eyes, asks him, "How do you feel?"

He grins crookedly at her, young and twenty and as vibrant as her first memories of him had ever been. He is a brilliant illumination to her old eyes in the chill autumn air as she beholds him, hefting Zangetsu over his shoulder and dressed in the black and white of his immortal station, the spirit of undying youth. His reiatsu warms her, and reaching out to touch her face, he kisses her forehead and tells her, "Didn't I say I'd be fine?"

She sighs and takes his hand in-between her own two, feeling young again herself as she stares at him, now a true guardian of the otherworld.

"Come sit with me a while," she says quietly, small smile dancing on her painfully mortal face.

"Of course."

Later, when Ichiro returns after having spoken with the doctor, after having made the announcement of his father's death, he goes outside to take his mother inside before she catches cold.

He finds her exactly as he left her, knees tucked against her chest and staring out over the pond in the garden, watching the fireflies zip back and forth in their brief glimmers of light.

"Mother… father is…"

"Fine," she finishes for him gently, looking up at her oldest and knowing that he knows when he's not supposed to fully understand.

"Come inside, before you catch cold," he says softly, reaching out his hand.

Rukia takes it and pats him as he helps her inside, throwing one last look over her shoulder at the dark garden, bright flashes there and gone again in the blink of an eye, a momentary burst of light that inevitably fades to black.

But she, more than anyone else, knows that just because she can't see them anymore doesn't mean they're not still there.

**END**


	206. One Fateful Day in Rukongai

**206.**

**Title:** One Fateful Day in Rukongai  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Eleventh Division**  
Word Count:** 553  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Brought together by an unhappy baby.  
**Dedication:** Kelly- Because she finally friended me back!  
**A/N: **This started out one way and TOTALLY went off somewhere else by the end. I'm too exhausted to think in coherent storylines today. O.o

* * *

Zaraki Kenpachi remembers the first, and last, time that he left all of his enemies alive after a fight.

In his defense, it had been an emergency.

Running through the uninhabited wilderness of Rukongai with a baby in his arms and no money in his pocket, he can't recall ever being in as tough a bind as he had been that day, Yachiru wailing in his grasp like she was being killed and he holding his breath for as long as he could and praying, _praying,_ that they'd happen upon a settlement soon, some sign of civilization to offer respite for Zaraki's tired arms and disgusted nostrils.

Yachiru stunk so badly even the _bandits_ were avoiding them.

And Kenpachi had no idea how to change a diaper.

So it was almost with a sense of infinite relief that he was stopped a few hours later, forced to face a scraggly group of highwaymen who had been stupid enough to consider Zaraki and his crying armful of unhappy baby girl as easy targets. He recalls watching them with immense happiness and gratitude as they'd stepped out from their hiding places, surrounding the woe begotten foster father in his moment of greatest need.

He'd left every single one of them alive.

And after the fight, with Yachiru wailing disconsolately against his shoulder, he'd shouted rather desperately,

"WHO HERE KNOWS HOW TO CHANGE A GODDAMN DIAPER!"

When no one had answered, he'd added a,

"I'LL LET EVERYONE LIVE, JUST FOR THE LOVE OF _GOD_ MAKE THE STINK GO AWAY."

Tentatively, like a distant beacon coming slowly into view during the darkest of nights, Kenpachi remembers a hand being raised.

"I uh…I know um…I had a little…brother…" the raised-hand man had started, pushing himself up into a sitting position, one eye swollen completely shut as he regarded Kenpachi and his yowling cargo with no small amount of trepidation.

Kenpachi remembers grabbing the debilitated bandit by the collar and yanking him upwards, grinning manically into the poor man's face. "You…can… you mean you can…"

"Ah… yes! Yes, I can! Please don't kill me."

Kenpachi didn't kill him. Rather, he remembers hugging him and shoving Yachiru willingly into his new friend's arms before announcing almost hysterically, "I'm keeping this one. Rest of you are free to go," as he ran one hand over the bandit's smooth, shiny head.

That was the first and only time the fearsome Zaraki Kenpachi had ever left all of his opponents alive and well after a battle.

Because a freshly cleaned and changed Yachiru was a happy Yachiru, and to Kenpachi, such a thing was, and still is, worth far more than his reputation as a stone-cold killer ever could be.

And that, once achieved, meant there was nothing left to stop Zaraki from taking seireitei by storm as planned, Yachiru on one shoulder and diaper-changer Ikkaku Madarame bringing up the rear.

For many years afterwards, Ikkaku would wonder how his life had ended up like it has, a hundred and eighty degrees in the opposite direction that he'd had planned out after one stinky encounter in a Rukongai forest.

Though, the third chair supposes presently, it's not so bad serving under Zaraki. Now, at least.

It's a well known fact that no one was more grateful to the powers that be than Ikkaku on the day Yachiru wore her last diaper.

**END**


	207. Agreement Conditional Upon

**207.**

**Title:** Agreement Conditional Upon…  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Ishida**  
Word Count:** 193  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for pretty much everything post Soul Society Arc.  
**Summary:** Ishida finds it more and more difficult to keep the deal with his dad as days go by.  
**Dedication:** Hmmm, I think I'll just throw this one out to John since I haven't dedicated anything to him yet. Fanservicelove  
**A/N: **I am so tired from classes today so here is a stoopid drabble that took seriously, ten minutes before I go pass out on my bed.

* * *

They appeared side by side in the middle of the school day like it was the normal thing to do, making a ruckus as they casually strolled the halls in search of Kurosaki, no sense of propriety or decorum visible in a single one of them when they threw the door open and peered in, loud and obnoxious and a complete live-action summary of why, exactly, Ishida Uryuu hated the shinigami.

The group standing there in a raucous five-person cluster was a Quincy's worst nightmare turned reality, the newly arrived death gods unwittingly blocking the only way in or out of the farce that had suddenly become Ishida's life.

When Abarai Renji was assigned the seat next to Ishida and the Quincy was told by the sensei to kindly catch the new student up on their current lesson, he sighed and resigned himself to the circus that was slowly enveloping him from all sides, scooting his desk slightly leftward and with chin in hand, wondering how exactly, he was going to explain all of this to his father.

At the rate he was going, he was _never_ going toget his powers back.

**END**


	208. A Word in Edgewise

**208.**

**Title:** A Word in Edgewise  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** IsshinxRyuuken**  
Word Count:** 473  
**Warning/s: **Mild, unimportant spoilers for the early post-Soul Society chapters?   
**Summary:** Ryuuken just can't say what's on his mind. Really.  
**Dedication:** laliho- it's been a while, and I need you to know that I still love you! XD  
**A/N: **Yeah, I'm still exhausted from class. Do my sentences even make sense? --;;

* * *

Ryuuken thinks that if he'd had any say in the matter, things would be very different than the way they are now.

For one thing, there would be no bad poetry recitation from the head that has insistently wormed its way into his lap this evening.

He would be reading now, ideally, the house quiet over the weekend and no one here to make any demands of him. He would be doing that, he thinks, instead of mechanically opening his mouth every few pages to be fed a grape, or a chocolate, or an "Isshin special meatball of love."

He doesn't like chocolates and he thinks the grapes Isshin picks are too soft, and he doesn't want to know what an "Isshin special meatball of love" consists of.

If he'd had any say in the matter, he would have been able to kick Kurosaki out of his life the moment they'd met, would have killed him dead after that first pounce/kiss in the living room of his _home_ after he'd opened the door and had a bunch of flowers shoved into his face without so much as a "how do you do."

If he'd ever been asked, he's certain he would have said, "no, I don't want to go out with you, Kurosaki. Leave me alone."

But seeing as to how he's never, to this day, been asked on a date so much as been grabbed by the wrist and dragged outside come hell-or-high-water, there's really nothing he can do about the whole thing.

It's all rather ridiculous, really, and frowning, he peers down towards the head resting comfortably in his lap, opening his mouth to say…

"Ne, say 'aaaaaaaaa' Ryuu-chan!"

Ryuuken pauses in his endeavor to stare at Isshin, who is holding a chocolate-covered strawberry and making it move like a fighter jet in front of the Quincy's face.

Forgetting what he'd been about to say, Ryuuken just looks at the strawberry-turned-aircraft incredulously. "You can't…"

"Aaaaaaa!" Isshin insists, wagging the fruit patiently in front of Ryuuken's mouth like one would do to an uncooperative four-year-old.

Ryuuken glowers back.

Isshin pouts and moves the fruit slightly away, looking wounded. "Waaaah, Ryuu-chan why don't you love me, you're always so mean, did I make you mad, are you mad? I didn't make you mad, did I? I love you, Ryuu-chan, you know I wouldn't make you mad, not on purpose, don't look at me like that I don't…"

Ryuuken sighs when he feels a headache coming on. "Aaaaaa."

"Waaaah, Ryuu-chan does love me!"

Ryuuken thinks that he should get a word in that says otherwise, that he _will _say otherwise to that ridiculous claim one day, but for now, as he chews on the strawberry and Isshin hums contentedly in his lap, he tells himself that he just hasn't gotten the chance to yet.

**END**


	209. A Simple Game of Tag

**209.**

**Title:** A Simple Game of Tag  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Byakuya, Yoruichi**  
Word Count:** 983  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ep 42 of the anime.  
**Summary:** The Shihouin house visits the Kuchiki clan.  
**Dedication:** Christine- thanks for the drink today!  
**A/N: **I was catching up on my Bleach anime yesterday and OMG there is a line in Ep 42 when Yoruichi calls Byakuya "Byakuya-bo" and makes reference to playing tag together in his youth. SO CUTE I had to write something.

* * *

Byakuya was, no matter how much his parents loved him, the first son of a noble house.

A child meant to be seen and not heard, to be admired and critiqued, watched and spoken about but never truly spoken to.

In other words, not a real person until his coming of age.

He remembers how he had felt, like some prized pet on display as guests and day visitors from various other noble houses paid his home a visit, asking with barely veiled envy, how the young master was doing in his studies, how he was faring in his training, etc., etc.

A part of him had expected some of the visitors to walk up to him and pull his lips back to examine the quality of his teeth or to grab him by the jaw and peer into his face to determine how bright his eyes were.

It was a childhood fraught with expectation. And he worked hard with that burden on his shoulders, did his best to make his parents proud, to do well for the Kuchiki namesake.

And so the Kuchiki elders watched him and pushed him into that role while the expectant eyes of the other noble houses loomed over him, waiting for him to fall, waiting for a reason to ridicule the great Kuchiki name like the turncoat sharks they were.

He worked very hard to show them that he was a child befitting of his noble family, appeared in front of every guest as the perfect genius-child, the flawless future successor of a great wealth.

And every guest turned their noses up to him and gave him a pat on the head, telling him to keep up the good work, before dismissing him like the object of momentary interest he was.

It was how it had always been.

Until the day visitors from the Shihouin house called upon his family.

Old men, most of them, there undoubtedly to have barely-veiled hostile communications with his parents under the guise of loyalty and friendship. Prepared to make his rounds as the Kuchiki's perfect son once more, Byakuya had bowed and greeted each of the guests, they eyeing him and asking how his studies were going.

"Very well, sirs. Thank you."

And that was supposed to be it, really, his cue to leave as his parents and the family elders saw to the visitors in his stead.

He remembers to this day, how it had felt as he'd turned around to leave and instead, came face-to-face with a young woman some years his senior, smiling playfully as she looked straight at him rather than through him.

Slightly startled, he'd blinked at her for a moment before remembering himself and bowing. "Ah, good afternoon."

She'd smirked. "Well, aren't you the perfect little bocchan?"

"Excuse me?"

She, obviously delighted at his confusion, grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him to the side. "Come with me."

"Who are you?" he'd asked. "Please let me show you to the tea room…."

"Yoruichi," she'd responded quickly, casting a look over her shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed. "And for all the tea in seireitei I wouldn't be caught dead in that room fulla old fogeys."

It was the last thing he'd ever expected to hear from a member of any noble house.

He'd very nearly laughed.

Eventually she led them outside, into the vast garden, and breathing in relief, perched herself on a large rock like a cat, happily basking in the sunshine.

Byakuya patiently waited for her to say something.

When she didn't, he'd frowned and asked, very carefully, "Why did you bring me here, Yoruichi-san?"

She'd winked at him. "'Cuz you looked bored too."

He remembers blinking, alarmed at the prospect that he'd lost face and shown some sort of ugly emotion to the guests.

"Don't worry, bocchama, I could just tell," she'd assured him, reading his mind. Then, "So… what do you do for fun around here?"

"Train," he'd responded automatically.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, _that's_ absolutely boring."

"Physical mastery of one's body and reiatsu are essential…"

"Blah, blah, blah," she'd drawled, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "How about a game? What games do you like, Byakuya-bo?"

He'd scowled slightly at the distasteful moniker. "I don't play games," he said stiffly. And it was true too. As much as his parents loved him, he was the first son of a noble house, and games were beneath his station, beneath the expectations his family had of him.

The servant children played games.

She, obviously, had no idea what being the firstborn of a noble clan entailed. Either that or she didn't care, because the next thing he knew, she was right in his face and smiling again, one fingertip on his nose.

He hadn't had the time to hide his bewilderment.

"I know a game we can play," she started.

"What…"

"Tag. You're it." And then she tweaked his nose playfully before dancing backwards, disappearing in a flash of movement too fast for him to follow.

He'd stared incredulously, nose twitching. "Tag?"

"Catch me if you can, Byakuya-bo!"

Hours later, when the guests were gone, young Kuchiki Byakuya allowed himself the ghost of a smile in the privacy of his own room. He'd failed to catch her, utterly failed, and while normally that sort of result in his training frustrated him to no end, today was different somehow, and as he picked out leaves and grass from his hair and wiped the mud from his knees, he thought that maybe this whole game-playing business had something to it after all.

Inexplicably, he couldn't wait for the next Shihouin house visit, telling himself that next time, next time he'd definitely catch her.

And though he will never admit it if asked, to this day, it was always Yoruichi's visits that he looked forward to most growing up.

**END**


	210. Stay Away from my Sister

**210.**

**Title:** Stay Away from my Sister  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Ichigo, Byakuya, mentioned IchigoxRukia**  
Word Count:** 232  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, really. Just crack?  
**Summary:** Byakuya and Ichigo have a problem.  
**Dedication:** jenkat- thanks for all your help on that contest entry earlier this week. --;;  
**A/N: **There is something about overprotective older brothers that is so _cute_. And so I linger on the topic like WOAH.

* * *

Ichigo and Byakuya had a problem.

With each other.

Ichigo thought it was just Byakuya being unreasonable. Rukia was a grown woman for crying out loud, and she could date who she wanted and everything would be _great_ if Byakuya would just realize that and stop being an overprotective paranoid freak about it and let them alone.

Byakuya thought that Ichigo was an idiot.

So one could say they didn't exactly see eye to eye.

"Stay away from my sister," Byakuya reiterated calmly, glaring imperiously at the orange-haired child sitting angrily before him.

"Argh. I don't get what your _problem_ is! Are you even _listening_ to me?"

"No, not particularly."

"God… just…argh. ARGH! Try to see where I'm comin' from at least, would you, moneybags?"

"Then maybe you should try and see where _I'm_ coming from as well, boy."

Ichigo scowled. "Fine. Fine! Then _tell_ me you imperious _ass. _I'm listening!"

Byakuya crossed his arms thoughtfully and after a tense moment, said, "Yuzu will one day grow into a fine woman. Any man would be lucky to take her into his home and…"

Ichigo's eye twitched and he held out a hand, stopping Byakuya before he could finish his statement. "Okay. That's enough. I get it."

An elegantly arched brow. "Do you?"

Ichigo sighed. "Yeah. I really, _really_ do."

"And?"

Kurosaki banged his head against the table. "We obviously have a problem."

**END**


	211. This Sweet Taste

**211.**

**Title:** This Sweet Taste  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** AizenxIchimaru, IchimaruxKira, AizenxHinamori**  
Word Count:** 555 (well, well…)  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Aizen and Gin have similar tastes.   
**Dedication:** antiparallel- dude YES Aizen is somehow, even HOTTER now. WTF?  
**A/N: **I really have no idea. I JUST LIKE TO EFF WITH KIRA.

* * *

Gin likes the taste of innocence, Aizen thinks, and as he looks at the new blonde toy his former vice-captain has brought home with him, it only reinforces the fifth division leader's opinion that Ichimaru has an affinity for the things that break the easiest if you're not too careful with them.

Kira smiles and bows enthusiastically to Aizen when they are introduced, and there is a glow about the young man that Aizen remembers seeing in Gin once too, something sweet and whole and full of potential.

Aizen nods and says, "It's nice to meet you, Kira," very gently to this fragile new plaything, casting a look at Gin, who is standing behind Izuru and looking like he's found the most interesting little morsel he's ever seen.

Aizen sighs fondly and remembers a time when Ichimaru's face was just as soft as Kira's is now, and he lets himself reminisce on exactly how it felt to corrupt something oh so very pure.

He supposes that he's destroyed and rebuilt Gin in the image of himself after all, and that as such, perhaps the two of them do both enjoy the taste of innocence more than they should.

Gin excuses himself then, and leads a pink-faced, exuberant Izuru away by the arm, his new boy eager and young and very, very innocent in Ichimaru's deceptively tender grasp.

If Izuru tastes anything like Gin did the first time Aizen destroyed him, then the fifth division captain thinks that Ichimaru is very lucky.

There's something about naiveté on the tongue that makes life so much sweeter, and Aizen supposes that if anyone taught Gin that, it was himself.

"Aizen-taichou!"

He turns and smiles in a fatherly manner at little Momo-chan as she jogs up to him, eyes clear and cheeks flushed and the sweetest looking morsel he's ever seen. "Aizen-taichou, I'm ready!" she announces shyly, the brand new vice-captain's insignia burning bright on her little arm.

"Are you, now?" he asks, chuckling kindly and reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

She blushes even pinker and he decides that yes, she's just ripe enough, the same eagerness in her eyes as Kira just now and Gin long ago.

And he thinks to himself that the things that break easiest if you're not careful with them are the things you want to be careful with the least of all, those fragile beautiful things that can be crushed with just the right amount of pressure.

He remembers how it felt to break Gin against his tongue many years ago, and thinks that if his little Momo-chan is anywhere near as sweet, he's very lucky as well.

He looks forward to it.

And as he takes his new little one by the hand and leads her away, he can't help but wonder to himself as well, how she will look when she is remade in his image as Gin was, once all that tender innocence is milked out of her and drunk deep down inside him.

It sends a shudder of excitement through his entire body, and with her hand in his he walks forward, thinking to himself that he can't wait to see all the different sorts of things he's going to break in her with time.

He imagines that the taste will be superb.

**END**


	212. Hard Knock Life

**212.**

**Title:** Hard Knock Life  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** shinigami in general? O.o**  
Word Count:** 231  
**Warning/s: **Sort-of-but-not-really post-Soul Society arc stuff.  
**Summary:** It's time to rebuild in seireitei.  
**Dedication:** Jen and Christine, whose joint comments spawned this strangeness. I hope you're both happy!  
**A/N: **Um. My brain has officially shut off for the weekend so I'm just dumb. That's all.

* * *

Buildings had been destroyed, multiple walls and storage facilities demolished, and infrastructure hung irreparably in hazardous angles while various other landscapes had been charred barren and desolate within the court.

The ryoka incident, on a whole, was Soul Society's most singularly destructive event in its eons of history.

And after the dust had settled, after the tears shed and the disbelief dealt with, after the wounds healed and the relationships between all death gods redefined, the fact of the matter remained that everything that had been destroyed in the course events had to be rebuilt.

The workload, to say the least, was enormous.

And so a general assembly was called after the more pressing administrative matters in Soul Society had been dealt with, the authorities in seireitei ready to rebuild the shambled ruins of the court's damaged sectors so that completely normal operations could be reinstated for everyone as soon as possible.

In short, the goal of the vast assembly was to decide who amongst all members of the thirteen teams was most fit to take charge of reconstruction efforts.

The decision was to be made by open vote.

But despite there being thousands upon thousands of shinigami in the service of Soul Society, everyone already knew what the outcome would be.

Long before the first vote was even counted, the fourth division rolled up its sleeves and started moving rubble.

**END**


	213. Daddy's Girl

**213.**

**Title:** Daddy's Girl  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Kenpachi, Yachiru, Nemu**  
Word Count:** 672  
**Warning/s: ** No real spoilers… I don't think. Maybe some OOCness?  
**Summary:** Nemu doesn't think Kenpachi is frightening at all.  
**Dedication:** PAPA, I MISS YOU!  
**A/N: **I love WOOBIES.

* * *

Kurotsuchi Nemu doesn't consider Zaraki Kenpachi particularly frightening. 

But perhaps that's merely because she views the world in a way out of synch with everyone else.

It's just that to her, Kenpachi isn't very scary at all.

Because when she thinks about it, she sometimes believes she wouldn't mind very much, to see what it would be like to be doted upon as a daughter.

And so she doesn't think Zaraki Kenpachi is in any way as intimidating as his reputation, especially not with little Yachiru on his back like she is now, bright and happy and adored in her own way as she pats that large, impossibly spiked head. Nemu watches the little one with Zaraki, how she sometimes laughs and presses little kisses on his cheek which annoy and embarrass him, which make him swat ineffectually at her and grumble crossly at her not to do stupid things like that anymore when he inevitably misses.

Yachiru always giggles and claps her hands together because she knows he's not _really_ cross with her, and very much like a tiny princess, she tells "Ken-chan" to take her somewhere fun now.

And Zaraki Kenpachi just isn't very terrifying at all when he sighs and with a hint of defeat in his voice, asks his little one, "what the hell she wants to do _now_."

Nemu watches them with a very small hint of envy, all the while wondering what it is about Zaraki Kenpachi that everyone else finds demonic, what there possibly is about such a man that is evil or crazy or out-of-control, as some of the other shinigami claim he is.

Because when she watches him with little Kusajika-fukutaichou tugging on his bell-spiked hair like it's the reins to a very tame pony, she doesn't see anything scarier than a subtly doting father with his precious daughter standing before her. And far from finding anything evil in that image, Nemu can't help but think it would be nice to be precious to someone herself, if only for a moment.

Because when her father swats at her, the flat of his palm stings very much. And when he asks her something, it's never what she wants to do, or where she would like to go, but rather, a sharp "what are you doing? Where are you going?" that tells her "no" rather than asks her "what." And she thinks it would be nice one day, to be able to lean over and kiss Mayuri's cheek and smile like Yachiru does to Kenpachi, to be able to say "tousan" just once instead of "Mayuri-sama" like he tells her to.

And so there's nothing at all scary about Zaraki Kenpachi to Kurotsuchi Nemu, nothing dark and wicked about a man who, even when fiercely cursing the little girl on his back, doesn't move to shake her off or even deny her any of her rather ludicrous requests.

Nemu watches this very tender scene and thinks to herself that Kenpachi is not a man to be afraid of like everyone says he is. It may just be because she sees the world very differently from anyone else, but she feels it would be wonderful if every little girl had a doting father's cheek to kiss whenever she wanted to.

And maybe it's because she was brought into this world in a different way than everyone else so that she doesn't look at it in quite the same manner, but when she sees Zaraki Kenpachi, she feels none of the fear that others always do.

But what she does feel is perhaps, much more dangerous than that.

Because wanting more than Mayuri-sama is willing to give her is infinitely more fearsome than a thousand Zaraki Kenpachis could ever be.

She's almost certain that this longing will be the death of her.

But then again, she doesn't see the world in quite the same way as everyone else does, and a small part of her thinks that even for just one kiss, it would be worth it.

**END**


	214. My Fair Lady

**214.**

**Title:** My Fair Lady  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Ikkaku, Yumichika, Tatsuki**  
Word Count:** 294  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 195  
**Summary:** Ikkaku finds the perfect revenge.  
**Dedication:** Erm… this one's just kind of dumb, so I'm not going to tack on a dedication. Though I suppose Tatsuki sort of reminds me of Kelly sometimes. XD  
**A/N: **I'm just being lazy and not doing my reading like I should be. BAD ME.

* * *

The crazy bitch that snapped his bokutou was apparently in their class.

Ikkaku sat with his arms crossed and glared at the front of the classroom where Arisawa sat, looking like some sort of normal, if slightly tomboyish schoolgirl, the complete opposite of the psychotic she-beast that had grabbed his poor wooden sword out of his hands this morning and splintered it across her knee, telling him to stop threatening everyone with it because he was annoying. And really bald.

Madarame snarled to himself. He would show her annoying. He would… he blinked.

Brilliant. He was absolutely brilliant.

Ripping a piece of notebook paper out of his notebook at the sudden inspiration, he hastily scrawled out a note and tossed it up a few rows in front of him to where Yumichika sat, the other shinigami filing his fingernails in boredom as the teacher droned on about rotating and vectors and A equals something-x.

The note bounced off the fifth-seat's head and landed neatly on the desk, giving Ayasekawa pause before sighing at his teammate's juvenile antics. Unfolding it, he read:

_Ne Yumi,_

_Betcha even YOU can't make _Arisawa_ beautiful. Even you ain't THAT good."_

_-Ikkaku_

Frowning, the fifth-chair crumpled the note back up and looked back at a smirking Madarame challengingly.

Grabbing his own piece of paper, he replied with a note that said:

_If that is a challenge concerning my skill, then I accept!_

_-Beautiful Yumichika_

And so, for the next week and a half, Madarame enjoyed what he and Renji had termed the Ayasekawa-and-Arisawa show, all in the fond memory of his short-lived bokutou.

"Ne, Tatsuki-chan, I definitely think pink is your color!"

"Leave me alone you makeup toting rainbow-browed freak!"

"Maa…we'll have to work on that language of yours too…"

"ARGH!"

**END**


	215. Father Figures

**215.**

**Title:** Father Figures  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Ryuuken, Uryuu, Souken**  
Word Count:** 635  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers… you know, except for who Ryuuken is? O.o  
**Summary:** Ishida always made two Father's Day cards.  
**Dedication:** Ann, for not calling me out on being a wuss for her kiddie pron story. --;;  
**A/N: **Well, aren't I on a daddy-love kick?-- ;;

* * *

Uryuu used to always make two cards on Father's Day, one for his grandfather and one for Ryuuken.

It was an assignment at school of some sort, and Uryuu's cards looked the best every time, decorated precisely and artistically, his handwriting careful and straight, his hearts and stars always symmetrical and his designs always innovative.

The one he made for Ryuuken usually said something along the lines of "Dear otousama, thank you for working so hard every day for me. From, Uryuu" on it, and was decorated with several gold and silver stars.

Ryuuken usually found his card placed on top of his desk when he returned from work on that Father's Day night, sitting there on his desk waiting for him, carefully set so as not to disturb any of his important paperwork.

The next morning, Souken would always beam at him over the breakfast table, presenting the card Uryuu made for him like it was the grandest prize in all the world, shyly given to him during their walk home after school.

The old Quincy would read the cards out loud with barely concealed delight and Ryuuken would listen respectfully if impassively to his father's happy rambling as he read a message that always seemed to sound something like, "Dear ojiisan, thank you for teaching me about the other day, it was very interesting. Also, I really liked the cake we made together! I hope you have a good Father's Day today and that in the future we can keep having fun together everyday. Love, Uryuu."

They were different sorts of messages for different sorts of men, and though young Uryuu didn't quite know the implications of the differences at the time he was writing them, Ryuuken was certain the boy knew enough to have determined for himself that his father and grandfather served different purposes in his life and that he should thank them accordingly for those things.

Uryuu is too old now for Father's Day cards, though on noteworthy days like that Ryuuken sometimes finds something special waiting in the fridge with his name on it when he returns from the office. He always takes it upstairs to his study and sits at his desk in the dark, alone for dinner because Uryuu doesn't live here anymore, refuses to live here, though he will always, always have a key, though he can return anytime he likes. And as Ryuuken eats those special meals on those special nights in his quiet, lonely office, he more often than not finds himself reaching into his desk to unlock the bottom left drawer, opening it and letting his hand brush against the stack of old glue and construction paper cards he keeps there, one for every year from pre-school to the end of middle school.

He doesn't take them out, just lets his hand curl around the paper gently for a moment, because he knows exactly what each one of them looks like, what every single one of them says verbatim.

Uryuu is too old for Father's Day cards anymore, but Ryuuken thinks that the careworn pile of glue and paper he keeps locked away in his desk is sufficient for a lifetime.

Just a few words on weathered blue and white construction paper decorated with stars to remind him of what life is all about.

And even though Uryuu is too old for cards like that now, Ryuuken is certain that the ones he has are already more than enough anyway.

So he sits in his study eating alone at his desk on those special nights after a long day's work, his fingers brushing the only thank yous he's ever really needed.

And for Ryuuken, it makes it so that even like this, even alone in the dark late at night…

…it's enough.

**END**


	216. The Pitter Patter of Little Feet

**216.**

**Title:** The Pitter-Patter of Little Feet  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, Yachiru**  
Word Count:** 457  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei's biological clock is ticking?   
**Dedication:** antiparallel and jenkat cuz fanart and colored fanart are LOVE.  
**A/N: **STILL WITH THE PAPA THEME. I really have no explanation.

* * *

Yumi looks good with a child in his arms, and the thought entrances and disturbs Shuuhei all at the same time because he's young dammit, and should not be thinking things like that, about nest-building and young-rearing and proud-papa-ing.

It's very uncool after all, to be in the prime of life as he is and all of a sudden start to believe that maybe Friday nights would be better spent at home reading to the kiddies instead of going out to have a beer with the boys.

Except that there's just something strangely riveting about the way Yumi as he very patiently tells Yachiru that no, she can't just go anywhere she pleases when she's filthy because that means everywhere she goes gets just as messy as she is and it's a big hassle later, for responsible adults to have to clean up.

She's bathed and changed now it seems, and Shuuhei watches with no small amount of fascination as Yumi speaks to her calmly but sternly, telling her that what she did was wrong.

Yachiru pouts and frets in his hold and tells her freaky-brows keeper that she didn't think she was _that_ messy when she went in and that she's certain Shuuhei's office will be easy to clean of all the mud and blood she left in it, no problem.

Shuuhei blinks. "Wait…my office?"

"Still, he shouldn't have to clean it of mud and blood in the first place, and now he does. That doesn't make it right, fukutaichou. Do you understand?"

"…I guess so."

"Good. Now, go and tell Shuu-chan you're sorry, fukutaichou."

"Hai!"

And then Yachiru is on Shuuhei's shoulder, patting his head with one tiny hand and saying very apologetically, "Sorry ShuuShuu, about messin' up your office so bad!"

Shuuhei blinks. "Er…well…"

Yumi crosses his arms and gives his lover a meaningful look, and despite the shock, Shuuhei is well-conditioned enough to know when that's his cue to nod his head and say, "Er, it's fine, Yachiru. You didn't mean any harm."

And that said, she beams at him with the biggest bright smile in her arsenal before giggling sweetly and exclaiming, "Yay! Can I go now, Yuuuu-chan?"

Yumichika absolutely _sparkles_ at the touching reconciliation, and without missing a beat, tells her, "Of course you can, fukutaichou!"

"Wai!"

And then she's off.

Shuuhei watches as the pink-haired child zips out of sight, off to whatever mischief she's bound to cause next, leaving him staring stupidly after her and with an office of unknown horrors to go and clean up.

He supposes that maybe this was all for the best though.

Because he needed a reminder as to why exactly, he isn't ready for kids.

And Yachiru's as good a one as any.

**END**


	217. Brave Little Soldier

**217.**

**Title:** Brave Little Soldier  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** AizenxGinxKira**  
Word Count:** 669  
**Warning/s: **Um, sort-of spoilers for the Soul Society arc, I suppose. XD  
**Summary:** Aizen has a certain amount of finesse when it comes to these sorts of things.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- because I said I'd write it, and so I did. I don't know how WELL I did, but I did and that's… yeah. Something.  
**A/N: **WEIRD.

* * *

Aizen-taichou is never very loud, all soft sighs and gentle whispers, fingers deceptively light. He is the image of precision over Kira's heaving shoulders, hands never lingering long enough or sharp enough to leave a mark on the surface, but Izuru can feel the bruises left behind by Aizen's touch anyway, deep down into the very string of his muscles.

He cries and falls and Ichimaru catches him with a soft cluck of admonition in his ear, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind his vice-captain's hair with surprising tenderness as he tells him, "Stay strong, Izuru-chan, ne? Bite your tongue and bear it a little longer for me."

And Kira nods deliriously because he cannot tell his taichou no, shuddering when he feels the tips of Gin's fingers digging deeply into his sides, his teeth scraping sharply into the back of the blonde's neck.

"Maa, no need to be so rough, Gin, Kira-kun will have a hard time explaining those marks in the morning, ne?"

Gin laughs around the taste of vice-captain in his mouth, withdrawing just enough to look up at his former captain and say very innocently, "It's alright if he tells everyone I did it if it's the truth, don't you think?" the third division leader poses with a sly leer, blowing on the raw mark he has left on Izuru's throat.

"T-taichou… nnngh… I…"

"Does it hurt?" Gin asks, resting his weight against Kira's shaking back. "A lot?"

"N-no, it doesn't…"

"See? No harm then, Aizen-taichou."

Aizen sighs indulgently at Gin's easy-going take on things, looking at his former subordinate with a mixture of bemusement and exasperation before he shakes his head and takes a moment to remove his glasses so that he can wipe them off on the sleeve of his coat. He resettles them on his nose once they're clear of steam, and very patiently, he says, "Still, Gin. I think these things sometimes require a certain amount of finesse, don't you?"

"Do they really, Aizen-taichou?"

"Of course," the older man assures Ichimaru, running his index finger feather-light along Kira's jaw before pushing the young blonde's chin up, forcing their eyes to meet. "Kira-kun, are you certain it doesn't hurt?"

Izuru shakes his head, unable to avert his eyes from the fifth division captain's fatherly gaze. "N-no, sir…"

"Absolutely sure?"

"N-no… it doesn't… it…"

"Not at all?"

"Not…badly," Kira admits after a shaky breath, his fingers unconsciously bunching in the deep folds of the fifth division captain's pristine white coat. "Not…in a bad way."

"Well, isn't that very brave of you, Kira-kun? Certainly, a sentiment to be admired," the fifth division leader encourages; thumb brushing across the corner of the blonde's slightly parted lips.

Kira closes his eyes and tenses instinctively under the seemingly well-intentioned touch, the bridge of his nose very sweetly turning the slightest shade of pink.

And when Aizen looks at that eager face torn between anticipation and fear, as he takes in that shuddering young body dangerously trapped between his and Ichimaru's, he can't help but think that Izuru is just the most perfect little pet he's ever seen, an ideal trooper with his stiff upper lip and his brave words, even in the face of all this peril.

Full of courage, this little one is, and Aizen can't help but find it very admirable of young Kira Izuru.

He smiles.

And then very deliberately, he takes his glasses off and sets them aside.

Kira's eyes fly open at the sudden sound and bewildered, he looks up and whispers a plaintive, "A-aizen-taichou?"

Even Gin's eyebrows are slightly raised now, and with an anticipatory edge to his smile, the third division leader leans down to press a facetiously tender kiss to the back of his vice-captain's head. "Close your eyes," he tells the young death god sweetly.

"T-taichou? Aizen-taichou? Wha…"

"Don't worry, Kira-kun," Aizen murmurs softly into this brave little soldier's ear, stroking his cheek comfortingly with the tips of deceptively gentle fingers. "This… this won't hurt a bit."

**END**


	218. Daughter of the House of Kurosaki

**218.**

**Title:** Daughter of the House of Kurosaki  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Ichigo, Rukia, Isshin (implied IchigoxRukia)**  
Word Count:** 697  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 199  
**Summary:** Rukia is under their roof now.   
**Dedication:** jenkat- thanks for driving to Costco this weekend.  
**A/N: **Frenzy writing. This is called frenzy writing during the last few hours of my sad, short weekend. No quality here. Just FRENZY.

* * *

There is something very, very inappropriate about this, but then again, with the looks his father is shooting him, Ichigo supposes that that's the point in the first place. 

Rukia's bed is set up on the other side of his room facing his own bed, and Ichigo thinks that it had been definitely way too moral; the way Isshin had been willing to take her in with just a vague sob story and lots of well-timed tears.

"Well, there you go, Rukia-chan! What do you think? Papa bought you a very nice bed, yes?"

"Oh, it's lovely! I could never ask for anything more! Thank you!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around his neck in a melodramatic fashion that only someone like Isshin could really ever fall for.

Isshin hugs her back in a manner entirely inappropriate for their supposed father-daughter relationship, and just as it's about to get to the point where Ichigo wants to throw the perverted old man out the window, Rukia pulls back expertly and looks down at the ground, wiping faux tears of joy from her face. "Oh, I'm too happy!" she sighs, sounding like a drama heroine…

…in Korea.

"Don't cry, Rukia-chan, this is a joyous moment not meant for tears!" Isshin exclaims. "Oh, I know! Look at the nice new clothes I bought you! That should bring a smile to your face."

He throws open Ichigo's closet and waiting there are rows and rows of girls' clothes lined up from wall to wall, shirts and skirts and shoes and panties and…

Ichigo gapes. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE…"

"Now, now, Ichigo, no need to be cross!" Isshin lectures as Rukia gazes upon her new wardrobe with more of that over-acted excitement. "You weren't using that space anyway! And girls should always have plenty of pretty clothes, ne, Rukia-chan?"

"Of course!"

Ichigo's eye twitches. "There's something very wrong about all of this and…"

He pauses.

Blinks.

Rubs his eyes.

A nurse's outfit. A _nurse's_ outfit and…

"The _hell_?" Ichigo demands, storming over and yanking the uniform off of the rack. "Is this some kinda sick joke or somethin'?" he asks incredulously.

Isshin pouts at the accusation. "Rukia-chan insisted that she do something to earn her keep! I was going to make her marry you, because papa is always thinking of Ichigo, but then I thought that my new daughter deserves someone better! So I thought she could help out in the clinic instead and…wouldn't she just look SO CUTE in that? Don't you think, Rukia-chan? Ne, don't you?"

Ichigo feels the vein in his forehead beginning to stand out. There is just something very, very wrong about his hentai-oyaji picturing Rukia in that cute little uniform, something so wrong that, no matter what the old bastard claims, is way different from how he makes Ichigo's real sisters dress in the same outfits.

He doesn't know why, but it makes Ichigo want to really, really hit the bastard. Hard.

Rukia on the other hand, grabs the outfit out of Ichigo's hands and tells Isshin very sweetly that it's lovely and that she's so lucky to have such a kind new father.

Ichigo sort of wants to punch _her _a little at this point too.

As if sensing his animosity towards her, she spins around and says, "I'll go try it on right now!" rather cheerfully, exiting the room with the uniform in hand while the elder Kurosaki stares after her dreamily.

Ichigo crosses his arms and concentrates his gaze at the ground as he hears her pad down the hallway into the bathroom.

After a moment, he raises his eyes and glowering at Isshin, asks, "What the hell d'ya mean, _someone better_?"

Isshin grins. "Aaaah, are you mad at papa about that? I knew Ichigo was at that age! It was papa's ingenious test! Because papa is always thinking about Ichigo, and really, since she's going to be living under our roof, I can become tyrant papa and force her to marry Ichigo if you want! After all, since I'm always thinking about Ichigo, and then she'll _really_ be my third daughter and…"

Ichigo gives up and punches him.

Hard.

**END**


	219. Between Heaven and Earth

**219.**

**Title:** Between Heaven and Earth  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** ChadxIchigoxIshida OT3**  
Word Count:** 632  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers, I don't think?  
**Summary:** Chad binds the earth and the sky.  
**Dedication:** Dave- DRAW ME PRON.  
**A/N: **So I've been meaning for a long time now, to write a fic that follows "Janken" and "PDA", but I've been too caught up in the drabbling I guess, to be able to write a full-length follow up. Thus we have this, which is granted, really cheesy, but at least it's out of my system. --;;

* * *

He is the mountain between heaven and earth, rooted deeply into the ground and at the same time, reaching up to kiss the sky.

Chado stands with Ishida on one side and Ichigo on another, and as they bicker back and forth loudly on the way home from school, he silently walks beside them both at the center of the storm, unruffled by the biting winds or angrily rumbling earth that surround him.

Ishida's nose is in the air and he pushes his glasses up on his face very smoothly with his index finger, the clouds reflected in the lenses and obscuring eyes that undoubtedly shine with excited mirth as Kurosaki growls angrily at him for his last comment.

Gaze concentrated on the ground, Ichigo snorts and mutters something to Ishida that makes the Quincy huff in response, makes him immediately look to Chad for support in his inevitable rightness.

Chad turns his countenance back and forth between them both as they look at him expectedly, each believing that the third boy will side with him and not the other. And with the hint of a smile, Chad can't help but think that he is the mountain towering between heaven and earth while they, they two are the universe around him.

The very universe without which he would cease to be.

And so when Ichigo rumbles from one direction and Ishida sighs from the other, Chad reaches out and touches them both gently, these elements that make up all life around what would otherwise be a solid, lonely tower of stone.

His earth relaxes under the weight of his hand, shifts and settles until it is cool again, the solid ground beneath Sado's feet from which all assurance springs. Ichigo is the world he knows well, the one through which he is and always has been deeply rooted, the thing which he will be inexorably linked back to for all his life. His origin.

The sky calms as well at his comforting touch, a quiet exhalation of air that signals the end of its thundering storm. From there a gentle light shines down upon him, and Chad breathes deeply from it, the very sweetest of scents. Ishida is the air above them both, boundless mystery and swirling emotion, the thing that Chad wants to reach up and up and up for, to bring back down from it's isolation in the world beyond. His destination.

Chad is the mountain that connects heaven and earth, and as his hands squeeze gently, the shoulders of the two who make up the entirety of the universe around him, he is glad for the role he has here, as the bridge through which the earth reaches heavenward, as the place through which the sky can feel the ground penetrate its lonely throne of endless nothing.

And so the universe shifts from chaos to order under the touch of his hands once again, Ichigo and Ishida both looking at him with the hints of smiles on their faces.

"Don't you have anything to say?" Ishida asks, tossing his head to clear his long hair from his face.

"Che. Probably wasn't listenin' to a word we were sayin' in the first place," Ichigo mutters, hands in his pockets as he absently kicks at a pebble by his foot.

"Oi…Sado… what _were_ you thinking about just now then?" Ishida pushes with a fondly exasperated sigh.

Chad, basking in the calm that has settled among them all, returns his hands to his sides and peers gently between earth and sky. "The universe," he says simply.

Ichigo and Ishida share a look of mutual confusion at his response, and together they ask, "What?"

Chad smiles and keepings walking, thinking all the while that he is the mountain that joins heaven and earth.

**END**


	220. Cuddle Bunny

**220.**

**Title:** Cuddle Bunny  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** ShuuheixYumichika**  
Word Count:** 982  
**Warning/s: **No spoiler, but WAFFY OOCness?  
**Summary:** Shuuhei likes a good snuggle when everything's said and done.  
**Dedication:** People who still enjoy this pairing despite how silly I write it. O.o  
**A/N: **I JUST WANTED SOME FLUFF. And you know how I get when I want fluff. I write it. Stupidly. But fluff it is! So…onward!

* * *

Surprisingly, it seemed that Shuuhei liked to cuddle after sex.

And while Yumichika didn't mind that very much most of the time, a recent summer heat wave in seireitei coupled with the fact that Shuuhei tended to generate a lot of body heat on his own in the first place, led the eleventh division death god to make a sound of protest when Shuuhei sighed wrapped his arms around Yumi, burying his nose into the other shinigami's shoulder with a muffled sound of tired satisfaction.

Yumi squirmed distastefully at the sudden inferno of warmth. "Shuuhei, leggo."

"Mmmmph, what? Why?"

"Too hot," Yumi complained, already worked up from previous activities as it was. Dealing with the heat on top of _that_ was almost unbearable. In retrospect, they probably shouldn't have done anything at all tonight except sleep, but there were some things that Shuuhei got very enthusiastic about such that there was no stopping him, and sex it seemed, was one of them. Another one of those things about his lover that Yumi didn't mind terribly. But still. It was hot.

And besides, they were done with that part now. Now, now it was time to retreat to separate halves of the bed and try not to suffocate in the still heat of the scorching summer air.

"Course it's hot, we just finished," Shuuhei offered easily, dismissing Yumi's explanation without any movement towards letting go in the meantime. "Just relax a moment and it'll be fine."

"Mmmm, nooo…. leggo," Yumi continued to protest. "You're always too warm anyway."

Shuuhei frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that in a heat wave, sitting really close to a radiator doesn't help any."

"Oh. I see."

Shuuhei withdrew without another word, retreating to the edge of his half of the bed and turning on his side to face the opposite wall. "Good night then."

Yumi sighed. "Aw, c'mon… don't pout! You know it's just because I don't like being too hot all the time! Especially when I'm already sweaty and disgusting and…"

"Disgusting, huh?"

"That's not what I meant!"

"'S fine. G'night."

Yumi pouted himself this time. "Don't be mad."

"I'm not. Night."

"You're mad!"

"I'm not mad!"

Yumi scooted over a little and poked his lover's bare shoulder. "You yelled at me just now. You are too mad."

Shuuhei sighed and turned over to look at the other man. "I'm not mad. I'm… disoriented."

Yumi wrinkled his nose in puzzlement. "Disoriented?"

Embarrassed, the vice-captain turned his eyes away. "Well yeah. It's er… I… it's…weird."

"Weird?" Yumi pressed, leaning closer.

Shuuhei rubbed the side of his face awkwardly. "The…well the, and then without the… after all the times we've… it's…argh. It's like…" Shuuhei trailed off and instead, made a grasping motion with his arms, moving them to how they might've looked had Yumichika been encircled in them. "There's uh…there's nothing there," he explained with a sheepish look at his lover. "I'm just used to the… it's weird, is all."

Yumi smiled and leaned over to press a quick kiss to Shuuhei's forehead. "Is that really all?"

"Well… yeah, I guess." Pause. "Why?"

"Because it's easily remedied, sweetheart," Yumi sing-songed, rolling back onto his side of the bed and getting up.

Shuuhei watched his lover quizzically as he padded over to his closet and shifted through the contents expertly. After a moment of digging around through his various fashionable clothing, he turned around, triumphantly hefting a big, fluffy pillow. "Here!"

"Here?"

He tossed it at Shuuhei. "Cuddle away!"

Shuuhei blinked and caught it reflexively. "Um… but it's…"

Yumi frowned, as if reading the other shinigami's mind. "You're absolutely right. Give it back."

The other death god, still not quite following, obediently threw it back.

Yumichika caught it and tucking it under his arm, headed out of the bedroom.

"Yumi? Yumi…what're…"

Ignoring Shuuhei for the time being, Yumi headed out to the study humming and still completely naked. He returned several moments later, and with a look of satisfaction on his face, thrust the pillow to his lover once again.

This time, a hastily scratched ink drawing of Yumichika himself stared back at the bewildered ninth division vice-captain. "Is that…"

"Yup. Me."

"It's…"

"Not as beautiful as the real thing, I know. But for now, it'll have to do."

Shuuhei stared back and forth between lover and likeness for a little bit.

Seeming satisfied with Shuuhei's reaction, Yumi mentally congratulated himself for an ingenious job well-done and climbed back into bed, stretching forward to give the other man a quick last kiss. "Now, goodnight."

"Er…night."

Shuuhei studied the pillow-likeness with a mixture of horror and fascination, noting that in the few moments he'd been gone, Yumichika had managed to sketch a smaller version of himself complete with his biggest smile and little sparklies around his eyes.

Shuuhei shifted it around in his hands a little bit.

Squinted.

Brought it closer, held it father away.

Turned it upside down.

Okay… so maybe it looked a little bit like Yumi.

But then again, it was a little bit dark.

Mentally shrugging, Shuuhei wrapped his arms around the pillow and laid back down, closing his eyes experimentally.

Not bad.

Beside him, Yumi sighed in his sleep and quietly murmured Shuuhei's name, shifting ever so slightly towards the other man as he did.

Shuuhei, hugging the pillow more tightly, decided that while it wasn't up to par with the real thing, it would have to do for now.

Sneaking another peek at Yumi, he watched fondly as his lover nuzzled down his own pillow, settling down for the night.

Reaching out to brush Yumi's cheek very lightly with his fingertip because he couldn't _not_, Shuuhei decided that while this was okay for now, the moment this heat wave passed, he was gonna be all over that.

And when that happened, no amount of whining was going to make him let go.

**END**


	221. For All Your Shopping Needs

**221.**

**Title:** For All Your Shopping Needs  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** JintaxYuzu, Ururu**  
Word Count:** 879  
**Warning/s: **Er, I guess spoilers for the extra panels regarding Jinta and Yuzu, but I don't remember where exactly that was from. ;;  
**Summary:** Yuzu comes around the Urahara Store on Tuesday afternoons.  
**Dedication:** emlan, because I wheedle like a WHORE. And she was very nice about giving me the translation and the links to all that JintaxYuzu extra stuff from the manga. **  
A/N: **Ummm… I've never written Jinta before. Soooo yeah. First time I suppose.--;;

* * *

Ururu catches him spit-styling his hair in the alley behind the shop on Tuesday afternoon when he's supposed to be sweeping, and when he sees that she sees him, his cheeks turn pink and he screams at her to stop standing around and get back to work, yanking on her pigtails and knuckling her scalp and generally being more vitriolic towards her than he might be on any one normal day.

She's concerned a little bit at his behavior, and later, when Yuzu drops by for her weekly shopping run, she asks the young Kurosaki if she thinks that there isn't anything wrong with Jinta lately.

Yuzu cranes her neck a little at the comment, straining to see Jinta, who is at the back of the store leaning very casually against the wall with his hands in his pockets as he stares at the ground intently and occasionally mutters at Yuzu to "hurry up and find what you need so you can go."

Yuzu smiles and says she doesn't think that there's anything wrong with Jinta that she can see, except that his hair looks a little different today. She raises her voice a bit at that last part and adds an "It's very nice today, Jinta-kun!" before turning back to Ururu with her shopping list.

His eyes shift leftward and he scoffs at her comment, kicking at the floor. "It's just hair, not a big deal," he says with a heavy tone of disinterest.

Ururu is about to butt in and remind him that he was going through so much trouble with it out in the alley just now, but by then Yuzu is listing off the things she needs from the store and Ururu suddenly remembers she's supposed to be working, not standing around and being useless. So she starts to move towards fetching the things Yuzu wants, except that by the time she reaches the first shelf with the tea, Jinta's already got everything she rattled off all gathered in his arms, shoving the whole big pile into the smaller girl's basket and telling her stop dawdling and get to the counter where he can ring her up.

Yuzu smiles and marvels sweetly at how fast Jinta always is when she needs his help in the store.

Jinta looks away again and seems very annoyed as he grabs Yuzu's wrist and tugs her towards the cash register, and Ururu is almost afraid that Jinta will do something mean to Yuzu like he sometimes does to her, pull her hair or kick at her or just be a general big bully about everything.

She's almost afraid he'll do something like that to poor Yuzu, but Tessai would punish him very badly if he found out that Jinta was treating customers badly, so Ururu thinks that it should be okay, though she keeps on her guard anyway, incase Jinta gets very mad at either of them.

It seems that Tuesdays of all days are the days that Jinta is in the foulest tempers, and Ururu almost wants to tell Yuzu that maybe she should come on Monday or Wednesday instead if she doesn't like the way Jinta is so impatient with her on Tuesdays.

She's not quite sure why Jinta is so ill-tempered on Tuesdays, because all in all, they're a rather odd day of the week to be cranky, but then again, Ururu doesn't think she understands much when it comes to Jinta, who gets impatient while ringing Yuzu up and forgets to charge her for a couple of her snacks.

About to say something, Ururu opens her mouth, but is cut off when Yuzu frowns and says, "Jinta-kun, you forgot…"

"Just hurry up and pay will you? I didn't forget anything!" he hastily shouts, holding out his hand for her money. "Now c'mon, people don't have all day just to wait on you, ya know!"

"Sorry!" Yuzu says sheepishly, paying him quickly. He counts her changes and practically shoves the receipt into her hand before he pushes her out the door. She barely has time to turn and say, "Goodbye Ururu-chan! Jinta-kun, thank you! I'll see you both next week!" before he closes the door behind her.

And then she's gone and Jinta's leaning against the closed door like he wants to make sure she can't get back in if she needs to. He's breathing a little heavily and crossing his arms, he stands like that for a few moments with his brow furrowed and his cheeks pink from what must have been frustration.

Ururu wonders what it is about Tuesdays that make him so very volatile like this, but she decides not to say anything because she's also noticed that while they close shop on Tuesday evening, he's always in the best of moods he can be in and doesn't pick on her so much during clean up.

It's weird and she doesn't think she'll ever understand Jinta, especially on Tuesdays where it's one extreme and then another on top of general strangeness like spit-styling his hair in the alley.

Next Tuesday, when she catches him spraying himself with some of the store's gift cologne, she decides to give up altogether on trying to figure him out.

It's all just too strange, even for her.

**END**


	222. Like Fine Wine

**222.**

**Title:** Like Fine Wine  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** KyourakuxUkitake**  
Word Count:** 658  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, I don't think. Maybe minor ones for Kyouraku and Ukitake's shared past? shrug  
**Summary:** Kyouraku remembers being young too.  
**Dedication:** fallofrain- been a while, hasn't it? **  
A/N: **You know, I'm probably a big idiot for writing this, but really, the idea wouldn't leave me alone. So…fire away.

* * *

The youth of seireitei are always full of life and noise, and Kyouraku Shunsui thinks that a century or two ago, that was him, that was him and Ukitake running around like that, chattering and laughing and moving all the time, young and excited and just very happy to be doing anything at all.

He remembers a time in his youth, where the two of them went for long walks in the woods, racing half the time and dawdling the other, all the time in the world to just be around one another and not think about anything else. They'd swim in the river together, jumping into the cool water on warm summer days or go hiking up to the natural hot springs on the cooler days to soak up the warmth and the steam beside one another.

They'd climb trees or fish, skip stones, nap in the sun or even sit in the shade and do nothing at all, just talk, just laugh, just be.

When Kyouraku sees the youth of today doing those very same things, he thinks that a century or two ago, he and Ukitake were the same, young and full of endless energy and excitement.

He can't pinpoint it precisely, but there came to be a time when the invincibility of youth ended for them both and he remembers suddenly, seeing Jyuushirou's sad smiles as the white-haired man said that no, he couldn't go for a swim today, it was too cold, or no, there was no time to just take a long walk off to nowhere, not with all the work left to do.

He doesn't exactly know when that time came, but he knows that it did, and that it's impossible for Jyuushirou to race with him anymore without breaking into a fit of coughs halfway through, that they can no longer just strip and jump into the river any time of the day they want because Ukitake might catch cold or flu, or any other number of things that seem to be plaguing him more and more as the years go by.

They aren't exactly young anymore, and while they're not that old either, the day has long since come where they can't do the things they used to do any longer.

But Kyouraku supposes that this is just how life is meant to be, that if you could forever do the things that you did in your youth, you wouldn't properly learn how to appreciate the things you can do once you're an adult.

And so he strokes Jyuushirou's shoulder very gently and slowly, slowly, pulls the other captain fully into his lap, where they sit in an overstuffed armchair under a mountain of blankets on this cold winter day, sipping tea together and telling "I remember when" stories from their youths into each others ears. And outside, those currently living their youths are having a raucous snowball fight in the freshly fallen powder, loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He feels ever so slightly envious of them when he hears all that laughter, but Kyouraku knows that he's already had his time for that, and now, now is the time for being older, for doing older things and enjoying older enjoyments.

And so he sighs happily and shares a soft kiss with Ukitake, whose lips, after all these years, have only gotten sweeter.

The time of their youth has long passed and what they have now is to live as adults, to the fullest of that potential.

Life is about different perspectives, after all.

And even though they can't do a lot of the things they used to do together back when they were young, Shunsui feels that what they're doing now is just as nice.

And really, if he thinks about it very thoroughly, a footrace would probably be a hazardous idea at his age.

He doesn't quite think his back could take it.

**END**


	223. Private Property

**223.**

**Title:** Private Property  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Sort-of ambiguously GanjyuxHanatarou**  
Word Count:** 628  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers.  
**Summary:** Ganjyu hates it when people that aren't him pick on Hanatarou.  
**Dedication:** The people who don't like yaoi but don't make a big fuss about it. Disagreeing nicely is GOOD. Teach your brethren. **  
A/N: **In light of getting some really retarded feedback regarding yaoi THAT IS CLEARLY MARKED, I've decided to um…write lots more. Seriously people, this simple concept of "don't like, don't read" IS NOT VERY HARD TO ADHERE TO. Just skip it if it's not to your taste or really, don't read my stuff at all? GRIEF WOULD BE SAVED EVERYWHERE OMG. Anyway yeah, that's it. I'm done. --;;

* * *

He gets irrationally angry when Hanatarou laughs at the end of a long day, coming back tired and full of unintentional stories about how much work he's had to do and how badly he's been treated by other shinigami.

It's normal for the fourth division, he knows it is, and trying to protect Hanatarou from that would unquestionably alienate him from the rest of his teammates, but still.

No one can pick on Hanatarou but _him_ dammit.

And maybe that's hypocritical or something, but that's not important. What's important is that he believes it. And he thinks that anyone _else_ trying to pick on the little guy is decidedly violating his very clearly marked personal property.

He is seireitei's foremost expert in Hanatarou-picking-on.

The dean of the University of Hanatarou-picking-on and all its sub-fields of associated study, even.

The, well, one could say, Hanatarou-expert.

And this, this is all clearly infringing on his territory.

He feels his eye start to twitch about the time Hanatarou says something about inadvertently missing lunch while he was getting some eleventh division shinigami theirs, hahaha oops, and Ganjyu thinks that it, that's the last straw. He's storming down there tomorrow morning and kicking the ass of anyone who _looks_ at the little guy the wrong way.

That's _his job._

Noting his companion's increasingly agitated expression, Hanatarou quickly stops his story and reaches out to rest a hand on the larger man's forearm, bringing him back into the present world. "Ganjyu-san, it wasn't that bad," the little shinigami assures him with a watery smile. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was going on and on, heh. I'll uh, I'll stop talking now, ne?"

Ganjyu frowns anyway, because the offer doesn't pacify him one bit. "Yeah well. Still. I'm the only one that can pick on you, dammit," he vocalizes, trying not to sound too pathetic about it. "Che. These assholes need to understand that it's my job and my job alone."

Hanatarou pauses thoughtfully at the declaration, giving Ganjyu a strange look that the larger man can't quite place. After a second, the little guy breaks into a real smile, looking up at Ganjyu with a genuinely pleased expression. "Really? You mean that?"

He doesn't really get it, but there's something about the look on Hanatarou's face that makes Ganjyu feel uneasy. "Well, yeah. 'Course I mean it. Wouldn't say it if it wasn't true," he grounds out, trying to look at anything but the little shinigami's very big eyes. "I'm the only one that can uh…pick on you. Yeah."

Hanatarou's positively shining now—well, as much as he _can_—and with his hand still on Ganjyu's arm, says, "I'm glad, Ganjyu-san!"

And that makes Ganjyu feel even _more_ inexplicably flustered, and not knowing really, how he's supposed to respond to that, he does the only thing he can think of to do.

He growls and pulls Hanatarou right up against him so he can properly knuckle the top of the little idiot's head. "Stupid! Why does somethin' like that make you happy? Huh? This 's why you get picked on by other people alla the time! It sounds like ya like it!"

"Ah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry Ganjyu-san!"

When he lets Hanatarou go again, the little guy's cheeks are flushed pink and he's breathing heavily, and for some odd reason, that gives Ganjyu an immense sense of satisfaction, because he knows that no matter what those other assholes do, _he's_ the only one in the world that can get a reaction out of Hanatarou that looks like _that_.

Without a doubt, still the master.

Those other guys don't stand a chance.

And that decided, Ganjyu grins and reaches out to ruffle Hanatarou's hair, telling himself that it's definitely gonna _stay_ that way too.

**END**


	224. No Matter What

**224.**

**Title:** No Matter What  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Tousen, Komamura (slightly KomaxTou)**  
Word Count:** 466  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Tousen has something he wants to protect.  
**Dedication:** maydayswing- thanks for the fanart! Though for some reason, I can't access the latest one anymore. --;; **  
A/N: **I am so tired right now I don't know what I'm writing, seriously. --;;

* * *

The first time he met Aizen Sousuke, the other captain had asked him very kindly, if there was anything in this world that Kaname wished to protect, no matter what.

And Tousen remembers that for a long time, the only thing he'd had was his own sense of justice and the memory of a friend he could no longer protect, who had moved to a place beyond his protection. But he supposes that it had only been after gentle Aizen-taichou had asked him that question that he made himself properly think about it, and after a moment of deliberate meditation, he remembers realizing very suddenly, that yes, there was something.

He thinks that that had been the first time he really discovered the depth of his sentiment towards Komamura, the first time in a long time in which he'd found himself once more, feeling what he had once felt for a completely different person, long, long ago.

Something--someone-- he wants to protect, no matter what.

When Aizen-taichou had asked him, very warmly, if there was anyone in his life like that, Tousen remembers realizing that the person who means the world to him now is Komamura.

And so he had answered "yes, there is," to that deceptively innocent question, letting Aizen Sousuke touch his shoulder kindly in response, those fingers on Kaname's body something akin to feeling what a smile might have looked like had he ever been able to see one.

In response, Aizen had simply said, "Well then. Why don't you come with me for a moment, Kaname? We'll talk."

And that had been that.

Perhaps it's a little bit selfish, but there is one thing in the universe which Tousen Kaname wants to protect no matter what, and even as he wears the title of betrayer now, of criminal now, he truly believes that what he is doing, what he has done, is right.

Because there is something in the world that he thinks is worth protecting no matter what.

And that's why he's risked it all to be where he is today. Even if Komamura despises him for it in the end, even if Sajin is unable to forgive him for it, Kaname feels that if you love something enough, you have to be willing to do anything for it. Even suffer.

Especially suffer.

And so while Komamura may or may not hate him for everything that's happened, Tousen Kaname can't help but hope that one day, maybe his most precious person will at least be able to understand why he's done what he's done.

One day, he hopes that Sajin will be able to realize that the reason why Tousen has given up everything to live like this is because he has something he wants to protect.

No matter what.

**END**


	225. Kenpachis are like Onions

**225.**

**Title:** Kenpachis Are Like Onions  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Kenpachi, Yachiru, Ikkaku, Shuuhei**  
Word Count:** 929  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of. Just uh... OOCness. Yeah.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi has layers.  
**Dedication:****antiparallel**- as always, thanks for the fanart like ten billion times, and dude everyone in my anime club 3s your Kira expression. XD**  
A/N: **This is really, purely for my own amusement. 'Cuz yeah, I made an odd connection in my mind between Kenpachi and Shrek. Plus I just wanted more papa-ness. So uh, don't mind me. I'm just so good at indulging myself, no matter how stupid, aren't I? XD

* * *

It happened late one Friday afternoon, Shuuhei having gone to the eleventh division headquarters to pick up Ikkaku so they could go to their weekly poker game with Renji and Iba, planning to head out a little early seeing as to how it was their turn to provide the alcohol and snacks.

Ikkaku had been ready, and on seeing the ninth division vice-captain said, "Lemme just tell taichou I'm outta here."

And so they'd headed to Zaraki's office, Shuuhei trying his best not to seem nervous given that Kenpachi was well, a…psychopath… and gamely, he followed Madarame down the ominous hallways, deeper and deeper into the heart of the eleventh division's main building and the infamous dark presence that lurked there.

Upon reaching the doors that unquestionably marked the office of the captain, Ikkaku completely disregarded any etiquette and casually strolled in without knocking, giving Hisagi reason to pause behind him and hope that it was something Zaraki allowed in his division rather than Madarame being forgetful about proper subordinate manners since it was the weekend now.

And thus it was with much trepidation that the door swung open to reveal…

Zaraki Kenpachi sitting in an armchair with Kusajika-fukutaichou and an open book balanced comfortably in his lap.

"Gaku?" the little girl asked, pointing to the text and looking up at the fearsome captain in mild confusion.

Kenpachi frowned, though not in any particularly intimidating manner. "No, it ain't that," he responded to her inquiry, chewing on the end of his pipe though it was very clearly unlit. "Look, gaku's got the three spikes on top, 'member? 's like my hair. Ya even said so earlier, ya little sneak. This one's just got the one so it's…"

"Ji?"

"Atta girl. Ain't so hard when you remember tricks like that, eh?"

"Hai!"

"Alright, howsabout this one?"

"Er… nara?"

"'s good. You're gettin' it."

"Wai!"

Shuuhei, rooted on the spot in the doorway, blinked incredulously.

Kanji lessons?

Zaraki Kenpachi was… with Yachiru…they were…

…learning how to _read_?

"Oi, taichou," Ikkaku grunted, waving to get his captain's attention and consequently, bringing Hisagi back into the real world.

Zaraki, removing his pipe and shifting slightly, turned at the sound of his third chair's voice, single eye glaring up at the two intruders. "Whaddya want?"

"Clockin' out, taichou, just wanted ta let ya know. 's Friday, so I'm out for the night."

"Are ya now?"

"Yup. See ya in the mornin'."

Kenpachi's lip curled at his third chair's easy-going nature. "Che. Well, ya better not come inta work as hung-over as ya were last week, ya hear me?"

Shuuhei, sensing the annoyance in the captain's voice, supposed that maybe this was the sort of thing Zaraki was famous for being scary about, and decided that the kanji lesson could be forgotten in light of whatever it was he was about to do to Ikkaku for being so insolent.

Ikkaku, obviously unaware of the mortal danger he was in, merely grinned sheepishly at his captain. "Aw taichou, you worried 'bout my health?"

Zaraki snorted, but oddly enough, relaxed back into his chair. "Like hell. Just so ya know, I ain't lettin' ya sleep off the headache in the jail again like I did last week if ya get completely pissed, got it? Now get outta here, me'n Yachiru are doin' our readin'."

Shuuhei blinked. _That was it_?

"Night, sir. Fukutaichou."

"G'night baldy shiny smooth head guy!"

Ikkaku sighed at the over-excited moniker and headed back out of the office, closing the door behind him and Hisagi.

The vice-captain continued to stare at it for a little while anyway.

Zaraki Kenpachi…

Tousen-taichou would have severely punished him for even considering going in to work hung-over.

Improper or something. It wasn't even feasible to _smell_ like alcohol while on duty in the ninth division headquarters under kindly Tousen Kaname and how was it possible that _Zaraki_…

"Oi, Shuuhei, ya comin' or what?"

Hisagi turned and stared at Ikkaku, who was waving his hand up and down in front of the vice-captain's face. "_That_ was big ole scary Zaraki Kenpachi?" he asked in an disbelieving whisper, still not quite able to process what he'd just seen.

Madarame looked back quizzically. "What the hell're you talkin' about?"

Hisagi pointed at the closed doorway. "They were…"

"Doin' their readin'. Taichou says he doesn't want fukutaichou growin' up impaired or something like that," Ikkaku explained simply.

"But…" Hisagi furrowed his brow. "That just don't sit right for some reason. That was just… so _tame_."

Ikkaku shrugged, being pretty much used to these sorts of reactions when it came to his taichou. They were always either pissing their pants or scratching their heads around him, it seemed. "Look, it ain't that hard to process, alright? 'round here, we just say that taichou's got layers, is all. Ya know, like an onion."

"Layers, huh?" Shuuhei repeated, looking at the other death god skeptically. "Like an onion?"

Ikkaku put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Layers 'n layers 'n layers. Like an onion. And like an onion, it ain't somethin' anyone should really wanna bother bitin' straight into. 's for the best. Got me?"

"Yeah…I think."

Ikkaku, as if just remembering something important, leaned closer towards Hisagi and lowered his voice. "Oh, er… and just for the record… you ever go blabbin' to the world 'bout what ya just saw, taichou'll probably kill ya. No joke."

"Yeah. Yeah, got it." Shuuhei sighed in relief, feeling oddly comforted by the familiarity of the threat.

Zaraki Kenpachi and death.

Now that, that was more like it.

**END**


	226. Our Happy Home

**226.**

**Title:** Our Happy Home  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** IsshinxRyuuken , Yuzu, Karin**  
Word Count:** 581  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of. O.o Just more OOCness.  
**Summary:** Ryuuken and the art of motherhood.  
**Dedication:** laliho- yes, the yaoi flamers only make us write more. And here is me writing more. **  
A/N: **I don't know either. I really, really don't. It just…is. In a very cracked out Zen way? Yeah.

* * *

When Isshin introduced him to Karin and Yuzu as "your new mommy" Ryuuken knew he was in trouble.

When poor, sweet little Yuzu started _calling_ him Ryuuken-okaasan, he was trapped.

But he supposed that it was his fault entirely in the long run, for letting this whole thing get as completely out of control as it had. In his defense however, dealing with Kurosaki Isshin when the man had his mind set on something had basically given Ryuuken the very limited options of one, being hounded to death after being driven crazy, or two, humoring Isshin to certain degrees such that he would be satisfied for a moment and leave things be, despite the fact that inevitably, some time later, he would be back to wheedling on an even grander scale.

Ryuuken had chosen option two for obvious reasons, but there was a certain part of his brain that told him perhaps he should have just let himself be driven to madness first as offered in choice number one so that when he unavoidably reached the position he was in now in their relationship, he would have at least had the nice, warm cushion of lunacy shielding him from the truth of the horrors he was undoubtedly going to face.

"Aren't you glad we have an even bigger family now, Yuzu-chan? Isn't this what life is all about? Isn't it? Don't you feel all warm and happy in your heart?" Isshin asked from the table, grinning in the sort of self-satisfied way that made Ryuuken want to grab a spatula and beat him over the head with it.

But then Yuzu had to join in too, turning to the Quincy and saying, "It is! It really is! I'm so glad for everything, tousan! Aren't you, Ryuuken-okaasan?"

And he had to sigh at that, coming face to face with those adorably naïve eyes of little Yuzu's as she looked up at him with her hands folded under her chin, truly, genuinely ecstatic about indoctrinating him into the Kurosaki family as a real-life member.

And as he looked at those big, happy eyes and that sweetly tremulous mouth, Ryuuken thought that before this particular instant, he'd never been particularly glad for only having had a son himself. However, at the current moment, he thought that maybe it was best that he hadn't had any daughters of his own.

He was discovering that they were very, very dangerous creatures.

Because there was something disturbingly captivating about this little girl's completely hopeful young face looking up at him that made it somehow, impossible for him to refute her inquiry like he knew he should.

He found himself incapable of saying no.

So he sighed and instead, continued chopping vegetables in the brand new pink-and-white ruffled apron Isshin had purchased for him, murmuring a resigned "Of course, Yuzu," in response to her question before going to the stove to test his soup, which was coming along rather nicely if he did say so himself.

Meanwhile, Karin--wonderful, jaded, completely-not-buying-it Karin-- sat at the table and did her homework and waited very, very patiently, for the lunacy to go away.

Ryuuken was almost one-hundred percent positive that her anticipated moment wouldn't be coming any time today, and finishing the preparations for his meal, he sent the two girls upstairs to properly wash their hands before dinner.

He figured they might as well descend into complete madness as hygienically as possible.

He was still a doctor after all.

**END**


	227. Talk to Me

**227.**

**Title:** Talk to Me  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Chad, Ichigo (slightly ChadxIchigo), Ishida **  
Word Count:** 533  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of… ?  
**Summary:** Chad and Ichigo have a language all their own.  
**Dedication:** Greg- thanks for the donuts you evil bastard. **  
A/N: **Because yeah, I haven't really written a ChadxIchigo sort of thing in a long while, have I? And yeah, still on my yaoi kick so there's a little bit of that implied somewhere in here… if you choose to look at it that way I suppose.

* * *

Words aren't necessary between the two of them anymore, and even if they were, Chad is uncertain if any such unit with fixed, pre-ascribed meanings would be sufficient to convey what he feels for the other boy in the first place.

So he doesn't really bother with things like words when it comes to the important things about Ichigo, and the two of them still manage to understand one another just fine regardless.

Because to Chad, something like Ichigo's hand on his shoulder, fingers squeezing very gently, is a reassurance that can't be properly voiced, that he can't quite translate into words without losing some of the meaning.

Likewise, the fluttering of the other boy's eye, the sound of his breath, the tensing and relaxing of his muscles, every movement and gesture Ichigo makes is a message to Chad that he understands not with his mind or with words, but rather with something inexplicable that has been deeply ingrained into every cell of himself. Everything Ichigo does is a transmission Chad responds to with pure instinct, without thought or hesitation. There is something here between the two of them that exists beyond the bounds of mere vocalization.

No one else understands this secret language of theirs but them, and Chad thinks that he wouldn't be able to explain it at all if anyone ever asked, because there just aren't words enough in the world to properly describe everything a twitch of Ichigo's brow means, to convey the intentions behind a certain movement of the other boy's hands or the focus of his gaze. Chad understands what all of these wordless messages are, knows the nuances and the variables between each and every one.

And so he knows that they're all impossible to explain.

"Che, what's his problem today?" Ishida asks come lunchtime on one warm Monday afternoon, the Quincy eyeing Ichigo distastefully as the orange-haired shinigami sits with his arms folded behind his head, ignoring the archer as he leans against the wall and stares out towards the sky.

Chad sits down beside Ichigo and silently begins unpacking his lunch, noting the thoughtful arch of his friend's brow, the lazy curve of his throat. He sees the far off quality of brown eyes and feels the aura of relaxed contemplation that surrounds Ichigo, all of which compel him to answer Ishida with a gentle, "Nothing."

Ishida spares the both of them a strange look at Chad's unexpected answering of his inquiry, and after a moment of studying his two friends, the Quincy mentally shrugs to himself, moving to eat his own food.

From beside him, Chad feels, feather light, the pressure of Ichigo's shoulder brush against his. Wordlessly, he opens his yakisoba pan and pushes back just a little bit.

After a while, Ichigo's eye shifts towards Chad and the other boy feels the very edge of his lip twitch ever so slightly upward as he bites into his lunch bread and thinks, _"Me too,"_ in response to everything Ichigo is telling him with that look right now.

And then Ichigo's gaze turns back towards the sky, neither of them saying anything for the rest of the free period.

They don't have to.

**END**


	228. Genepool

**228.**

**Title:** Genepool   
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** IsshinxRyuuken, IchigoxIshida**  
Word Count:** 322  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but lots of goofy oocness. --;; Er, and mansex.   
**Summary:** Sort-of-but-not-really companion piece to #226 (Our Happy Home)- Ichigo and Ishida fear the future.  
**Dedication:** The IchixIshi fans, since I haven't written this pairing in like, OMG forever? O.o **  
A/N: **Talked to my dad on the phone yesterday about the inevitability of the genes I've gotten from him. Sort of depressing, but at the same time, fodder. FODDER. I has no shame whatsoever. XD

* * *

"If this is how you're going to be in twenty years I want out now."

Ichigo scowled at the other teenager. "Yeah well, you in twenty years ain't lookin' so hot either," he countered, leaning back against the doorframe and crossing his arms, unable to look away from the scene about to play out before them.

Both boys sat quietly by and watched as Isshin jumped on Ryuuken from the stairway with a cry of "Okaeri!" loud enough to shake the walls, tackling the elder Ishida before he had a chance to properly dodge and sending them both tumbling onto the couch as a result.

"Get off, you idiot!"

"That was the plaaaan Ryuu-chan. Teeheehee."

"I will not stand to be manhandled like this and with such vulgarity! Remove your hands immediately and…..mppph…"

Ichigo and Uryuu both winced and hastily closed the door to the living room.

Having watched with barely concealed horror, the entire episode of Isshin patiently waiting on the stairs for Ryuuken's return from the clinic--up until its culmination on the couch anyway-- both boys couldn't help but wonder if what they had just witnessed was a peek into a frightening, inevitable future.

Ichigo rubbed at the back of his neck uncomfortably at the thought, eyeing his equally disturbed companion. "Um… we're not slaves to our genes?" he offered weakly after a moment, not completely convinced of the statement himself.

Ishida sighed and pushed his glasses up on his nose a little higher before declaring very determinedly, "I'm never having sex with you again."

Ichigo blinked at that. "Wait… _what_?"

"Stopping the problem at its root," the Quincy explained.

"Hey, how the hell is that gonna…"

A sudden, ill-timed, "Nnnnngh!" from the living room killed Ichigo's protests in his throat.

Defeated, he hung his head and muttered, "Yeah. Yeah… that's probably for the best."

Silence.

And then, "Um. I'm going to call someone to get the couch cleaned."

**END**


	229. Accept no Substitutions

**229.**

**Title:** Accept no Substitutions  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Hitsugaya+Matsumoto (ish)**  
Word Count:** 495  
**Warning/s:** No big spoilers, just minor ones for Gin and Rangiku backstory.  
**Summary:** Histugaya maps out what he wants in his future woman.  
**Dedication:** Jab- BOOBS.**  
A/N: **Been a while since I wrote these two, so…here I go. Plus I got my yaoi kicks for that last review all out of my system, so some het was in order.

* * *

He's decided that once he's fully grown, he will only date women with small breasts.

And brunettes. Definitely only brunettes.

Girls who don't like to drink.

Cute, short, plain-looking girls for him only.

And preferably girls who can cook and who don't have any scary-ish type childhood friends, who respect his rank and aren't so comfortable with their bodies that they consider nudity merely a phase in-between being dressed and nothing to be ashamed of at all.

He'll definitely only date girls younger than him, maybe even only ones with short hair.

Because Hitsugaya Toushirou doesn't want anyone who's anything like his vice-captain. He just doesn't think he can really deal with anyone who is similar to Matsumoto after everything she's put him through.

And so he sits and writes out this list to keep until the day he's fully grown, thinking to himself that in the future, he will only be able to seriously date a younger brunette with short hair and small breasts, who can cook and is modest and can't hold her liquor and doesn't know who Ichimaru Gin is at all.

Those are his absolute stipulations as he sits at his desk and works today, while Matsumoto naps languidly on his couch, the occasional sensual sound or movement from her distracting him from his paperwork.

And so he's decided he has to make this list now, while he's still young and not fully grown, because he thinks he's almost, _almost_ there and he doesn't want to be caught by surprise when adulthood is truly upon him and find himself just going for what's familiar to him, for any blonde, busty older woman who happens to remind him of the one he's spent a good amount of his youth hanging around.

This way he's prepared for when he's fully grown, for when his hormones go out of control. He can tell himself now, while he's still partially rational, what he is supposed to want in a girl.

And that's everything Matsumoto's not.

Because he thinks that after everything they've been through together, his lovely vice-captain has officially ruined him for every other girl out there that's like her but not her.

So he knows he'd better go for a woman that's absolutely nothing like Mastumoto to be safe, to be fair to that other girl he'll one day date once he's fully grown.

Because if he doesn't, if he loses his head in all those hormones and chooses someone who's anything at all like his vice-captain, he knows that the only thing that girl can truly ever be to him is a pale imitation.

So he'd better tell himself now, before it's too late, that Matsumoto is exactly the opposite of everything he wants.

She sighs and rolls onto her side on the couch then, nuzzling up against the cushions and murmuring softly in her sleep.

He swallows and turns back to his list and hopes that it isn't already too late.

**END**


	230. Unsung Hero

**230.**

**Title:** Unsung Hero  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Aizen**  
Word Count:** 482  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc and beyond.  
**Summary:** No one understands genius in its time.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- something about the "nice evil guy" comments we were making back and forth to each other spawned this. I can't really explain how. O.o **  
A/N: **There is something charming about Aizen's evil that I can't quite get over, and I can't help but think that he's got his own spin on everything in that devious head of his somewhere too. You know how these things are. --;;

* * *

He did it for world peace.

And if anyone were to take the time to stop and think about it, to question Aizen Sousuke's motives and perhaps, ask him about why he ended up doing what he did, he would, without hesitation, answer, "I did it for world peace."

Because that's all he ever really wanted in the end, a place where the constant fighting and attacking and killing and anger and grief could be wiped away.

A world where Hollows and shinigami could understand each other.

Become each other.

Because Aizen always did believe that the answer to solving any sort of dispute was to walk a mile in the other person's shoes, and as far as he was concerned, shinigami who didn't understand what being a Hollow was like and Hollows that didn't understand what it was like to be shinigami would never be able to get along.

And Aizen wanted nothing more than peace. To stop the fighting forever.

He believed he could create that world.

And that was why he did what he did in the long run, because he'd always dreamed of a world without violence where everyone could understand each other and live together happily based on that understanding.

And maybe the rest of the shinigami didn't get it quite yet, calling him murderer and traitor and all other form of hurtful names, but Aizen supposed that all the greatest visionaries were misunderstood in their own lifetimes, and this was no different. But he surely felt that all of that would change once the death gods of seireitei were forced to open their eyes and see exactly, what his grand scheme was.

Nothing less than world peace.

And so for now, he endured their defamation, turned the other cheek towards their miniscule attempts to stop him, to catch him, to kill him. Because he understood, as a visionary, that not everyone could be like him, could see as far ahead as he could. He would just have to sit patiently by and endure their anger until he could make them see for themselves that everything he did, no matter how despicable at the time, was all towards a far greater purpose.

And that was why he could not stop to mourn every death he caused, could not afford to sit and waste time thinking about the bodies that piled up around him as he moved step by step, closer to his ultimate goal.

One had to be able to look beyond the death he caused and towards the future to fully understand him.

Everything he did, everyone he hurt, all the people he killed, were sacrifices. Inevitable and necessary. And when you looked at the big picture, a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things, really.

There were much more important things to worry about.

Aizen Sousuke was trying to save the world.

**END**


	231. Morning Rituals Of Death

**231.**

**Title:** Morning Rituals (of Death)  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Eleventh Division**  
Word Count:** 713  
**Warning/s: **No Spoilers, but possible OOCness. XD  
**Summary:** Mornings in the eleventh division headquarters are nothing short of horrific.  
**Dedication:** Beck- her idea. **  
A/N: **Um. I don't want to write my paper? --;;

* * *

Everyone in seireitei suspected that all manner of sadistic and brutish things went on in the eleventh division headquarters at all hours of the night and day, citing the fact that under a demon like Zaraki Kenpachi, nothing short of bloody chaos could result.

Little did they know that some such horrors were beyond their comprehension.

"Ow, dammit Yumi, I ain't finished!"

"What kind of _halfwit_ needs a _mirror_ to _wax his head_?" Yumichika sniffed back moodily, elbowing Ikkaku out of the way of the large full length mirror in the division's communal washroom. "Now move out of the way. _Perfection_ has higher priority," the fifth chair demanded, running a brush through his hair and fluffing his long, multi-colored brows primly in an effort to wash away all evidence of sleep and the nasty little things that tended to happen to hair and skin during that time.

Ikkaku scowled and elbowed the other man back, finger-deep in his head wax. "I'm almost done, ya fruitcake! I was here first! You know the rules! Now _move_!"

"Just wear a bag over your head, Ikkaku, it's much easier. Using the reflection of your head to make people avert their eyes before they can see your hideous face is too much trouble for the same result, don't you think?"

"Don't make me give you a fat lip ta go with that fat head, Yumi, I swear I'll…ACK."

"Hmph. Serves you right you…ouch!"

"Stop it!"

"Let go!"

"ARGH!"

SLAM.

Both combatants turned their eyes at the sudden sound of the door crashing open behind them, otherwise frozen in the ignominious position of Ayasekawa's palm shoving Ikkaku's chin skyward and Ikkaku's fingers yanking at Yumichika's ear.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

The two lower chairs smiled sheepishly as the shadow in the doorway revealed itself to be none other than Zaraki-taichou himself, the captain's eyes slit dangerously as he sleepily studied his subordinates from across the washroom.

"Er, nothing taichou!"

"Yes, nothing at all!"

Zaraki glowered as he took in the sight of them both. "It's too damn early for all this noise, ya idiots," he chastised groggily, one big fist coming up to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

Having the grace to look sheepish, the other two simultaneously released one another and moved aside from the mirror. "Sorry, sir!"

Snorting, Zaraki lumbered, half-awake, into the washroom himself, grabbing a stool from beside one of the counters and plopping it down in front of the large mirror.

Puffing a strand of limp hair out of his face, the fearsome, bloodthirsty, demonic—and rather bed-mussed and grumpy-in-the-mornings-- captain of the eleventh division slumped down into the stool and waited expectantly. "Get to work," he muttered, letting his eyes slide shut again as he waved at the other two half-consciously.

"Yes sir!"

Ikkaku went to get the hair gel and the blow dryer.

Yumichika fetched the bells from the captain's special cubbyhole by the door.

And then the both of them set to work on the daunting task of getting those blood-curdling bell-tipped spikes of Zaraki Kenpachi's in proper working order.

Twenty-five minutes and a cup of alcohol-doused black coffee later, Zaraki Kenpachi--perfectly spiked hair and all-- donned his infinite-energy-sucking eye-patch and his captain's coat and got to work.

Ready to face the day now, the eleventh division captain headed out into seireitei with a grin that said he was going to take on the whole world by killing everyone in it, not showing an ounce of that early-morning grogginess he'd exhibited not half an hour before.

Other shinigami whispered amongst themselves at the familiar sight of Zaraki-taichou striding through the court, making their shameless speculations as to how such a sadistic, intimidating man must run his division. The least of these ideas seemed to involve ugly rumors regarding the unspoken horrors Zaraki Kenpachi must make his subordinates endure on a daily basis.

And Kenpachi himself never felt the need to deny any of it.

Really though… that scene in the bathroom with all the blow dryers and hair spray and gel and styling? That was probably going to be the most fearsome thing that happened in the eleventh division all day.

But as far as Zaraki was concerned, no one else had to know that.

**END**


	232. Stronger

**232.**

**Title:** Stronger  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Renji**  
Word Count:** 542  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Renji is grateful for his captain.  
**Dedication:** Mel- Thanks for thinking my writing is worth money. --;;**  
A/N: **Because I just felt like fangirling Byakuya after re-watching 52-53. He is a good captain, and no one can say otherwise. :P

* * *

He's gotten stronger now, after everything, and even though he knows that's a good thing, a very small part of him can't help but feel guilty about it because seireitei as a whole has become weaker in his stead.

His friends have become weaker in his stead.

And Renji feels something horrible settle deep down in his heart when he looks at his peers now, who sit with all their injuries and broken spirits, staring out of windows and wondering what happened, how they fell so low.

There's something painful about watching Kira with his knees tucked against his chest, holding himself and looking out into the distance, his captain's name still unconsciously on his lips.

And even worse is visiting Hinamori in her hospital room as she shreds piece by piece, the remaining scraps of Aizen's last letter, her brow furrowed in a mixture of anger and betrayal and underneath it all, a longing that Renji knows horrifies her because the good girl inside of her thinks that she shouldn't continue to long for her captain's embrace.

And Renji stands apart from his two classmates and watches them both, wondering to himself how he got to be so lucky. How his captain, in sharp contrast to theirs, built him up and made him stronger. Made him strive for more.

It's all rather ironic really. Friendly Ichimaru-taichou and kind, gentle Aizen-taichou are the ones responsible for destroying Kira and Hinamori.

While cold, unfeeling Kuchiki-taichou has made Renji strong.

And while Renji still can't find it in him to actually _like_ his captain, now, now he feels that there is more of an understanding between them.

Because as friendly as Ichimaru might have been, and as kind and gentle as Aizen might have seemed, it dawns on Renji now that only his Kuchiki-taichou has been honest.

Kuchiki Byakuya is not a man who leads by illusions, who pets and coddles his subordinates so he can attack them from behind when they least expect it, when they trust too much to watch out.

Kuchiki Byakuya is a man who attacks his opponents from the front, who does as he says and says as he does and does not try to pet or coddle or deceive.

The blade that had entered Renji's body had been in battle, while in contrast, Kira and Hinamori bear the scars from their captains upon their backs.

And Renji believes that that has made all the difference.

That has made him strong.

And while he can't find it in himself to really like his captain, he finds instead, an immense gratitude towards Kuchiki Byakuya, whose blade pierced his chest head on, while his eyes were wide open.

And though he had been hopelessly, hopelessly defeated at that moment, Renji finds that the scars from that battle have made him much stronger.

Kuchiki Byakuya is a captain who makes his subordinates strong.

And face-to-face, challenges them to become stronger.

Renji watches Kira pine away by himself, knees folded to his chest. He hears Hinamori sigh sadly from her hospital bed as she gazes longingly out the window.

And for the very first time, Abarai Renji thinks that he is glad to serve Kuchiki Byakuya.

Because he's only gotten stronger for it.

**END**


	233. Oneesan

**233.**

**Title:** Oneesan  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Ichigo, Rukia, Yuzu**  
Word Count:** 529  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the post-Soul Society arc  
**Summary:** Rukia and Yuzu at teatime.  
**Dedication:** Jenkat, because it's been a while? --;;**  
A/N: **I suppose this _could_ be IchixRuki if you wanted to see it that way, but I was more concerned about familial relations so uh, decide for yourself? I dunno, I should just finish my paper like a good student or something. O.o

* * *

Yuzu absolutely adores having a big sister now, and Rukia doesn't mind so much being one it looks like, when she sits beside the younger Kurosaki and they play at teatime together, surrounded by stuffed animals and other generally girlish sorts of things that Rukia never had when she was a child.

She looks completely lost sitting there, and Ichigo can't help but allow a little smirk at that, as Yuzu pours them drinks and serves them snacks and goes about everything very properly.

But at the same time, he thinks that Rukia is having fun because there's something special about being an older sibling that sort of just latches on to you before you realize it and never lets you go.

And so she looks right in place there somehow, at the tea table beside a stuffed pink teddy bear and a furry white cat, sipping at her cup with her pinky in the air and a straw bonnet on her head.

As if feeling his eyes on her, Rukia turns and catches him watching them from the hallway, and arching a brow at him, seems to ask, _"what are you looking at?"_

He averts his eyes, embarrassed to have been caught staring, and moves to continue down the hall towards his own room, only to hear, "Ichi-nii… want to play with us?"

He pauses and looks at Yuzu, who is wearing white gloves that are a size too big for her small hands and her absolute favorite yellow dress, sipping tea like a right proper lady before she graciously clears out a spot beside her for him to sit if he wants to.

He blinks at the two, looking between them to find Yuzu hopeful and Rukia amused. And when he sees Yuzu's face like that, he thinks that there's something about being an older sibling that sort of just latches on to you and never lets you go, no matter how many additions may be made to the family, no matter how many other playmates Yuzu will find throughout her life.

And so Ichigo sighs and comes into the room, kneeling down to squish himself into the diminutive chair she's cleared for him. "Yeah, okay."

And Yuzu beams at him when he does, moving to serve him tea and offer him biscuits.

Rukia eyes him from under the brim of her hat with a little smile, and Ichigo feels an answering one tug at the corners of his mouth as Yuzu busies herself with serving her new guest and introducing him to the other partygoers one by one.

He picks his cup up and toasts Rukia in the meantime; hoping that she knows exactly what she's gotten into now.

Because there's something about being an older sibling that latches on to you and never lets you go, and she better be prepared for that now, when they're all like this together around the table.

Rukia simply looks back at him and raises her cup in response, eyes sharp and smile genuine, and Ichigo supposes that maybe she knows exactly what's going on here after all.

So they drink together and he welcomes her into his family.

**END**


	234. Beach Trip

**234.**

**Title:** Beach Trip  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Yachiru, Kenpachi, Yumichika **  
Word Count:** 709  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers, except for that one uh, fanservicey chapter cover. O.o And some OOC to look out for, I suppose. --;;  
**Summary:** The women go to the beach.  
**Dedication:** Christine, JaB and Nico- YOU ARE 11th Division LOVE.**  
A/N: **Yeah, you know which chapter title I'm talking about. The one with the BOOBS. O.o

* * *

When Kenpachi asks her what the hell she's wearing, she makes a face at him and tells him very directly, that it is a bathing suit.

Kenpachi scowls and shoots back that he can see her middle and that's like _inviting_ someone to just go ahead and put a sword there.

She crosses her arms and pouts and tells him that the girls are all going to the beach today and they're going to play in the water and catch fishies and smash watermelons and make sand castles and maybe even sand armies that can battle with one another until the death of every single last sand man.

Kenpachi frowns and says that it all sounds like a monumental waste of time and that he can _still_ see her middle and someone else is gonna see it too and think that it's the perfect place to just go ahead and stab.

Yumichika butts in then, and very primly tells his captain that if he's so worried, maybe he should go to the beach with the rest of the ladies and keep an eye out on fukutaichou so should anyone desire to try and put a sword in her exposed middle, he could maybe persuade them not to.

Kenpachi snorts and says he'd rather eat a sword to the gut himself then go play around in the sand with a bunch of women when he could be training or fighting or killing something else instead.

Yumichika smiles prettily and tells his taichou that it's not just the women that are going, but some of the men as well, he thinks, and that he's sure there will be many nice young bucks there to keep an eye on fukutaichou and her middle and all of the rest of her should someone try to do her any harm.

Kenpachi's jaw twitches at that and he can't help but ask what guys are going.

When Yumichika responds that he thinks, though he's not sure, that there are some nice men from the fifth division and some from the third division and some from the twelfth division that he knows of who want to go, Kenpachi clenches his teeth and draws his zanpakutou and tells Yachiru that he's going to the beach with her today.

The little vice-captain smiles and claps happily at the announcement, because really, building sand armies and having sand wars would be no fun without Ken-chan there to help her do the crushing, and jumping up on his shoulder she kisses his cheek before dodging the arm that tries to swat her away. "You have to change then too, Ken-chan! Hurry, hurry!" she urges, citing that the party will be leaving for the beach very soon.

Kenpachi looks at her dumbly and asks her what the hell she expects him to change into that's better than his usual clothing.

She frowns and tells him that _obviously,_ he will need something he can swim in.

Kenpachi moves to protest any such need given his complete lack of desire to swim, but Yumichika steps forward before he can say anything, the fifth seat holding something in-between his hands and beaming brilliantly at both captain and vice-captain. He holds it up for all to see and tells them that he has just the thing to solve their problem.

Yachiru claps gleefully when she sees it and urges Ken-chan to hurry.

Later, when Zaraki Kenpachi is sitting on the beach in a floral-patterned pair of white and red board shorts, he notices that there aren't any other guys around here at all besides him, and that being said, he promises himself that he'll kill Yumichika later when they get back.

Around him, the women eat watermelon and sunbathe and twitter to themselves about how _cute_ it is that Kenpachi decided to come with Yachiru to their beach day today and isn't he just such the _sweetest_ daddy _ever_?

Kenpachi would glower at them for saying as such, but every time he looks anywhere in their general direction he feels like some sort of a weird pervert, so he averts his eyes and consoles himself with the notion that maybe he'll kill them later too, after he and Yachiru finish building their sand armies together.

**END**


	235. The Long Road Ahead

**235.**

**Title:** The Long Road Ahead  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Renji, Kira, mentions of GinxKira, hints of RenjixKira, but not really.**  
Word Count:** 869  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc  
**Summary:** Kira still thinks of Gin.  
**Dedication:** Urm… how about antiparallel if she doesn't hate me for this afterwards? But seriously, the picture you drew and Kira's FACE… haunts me man. XD **  
A/N: **Yup. Still like messin' with Kira. It's the "rape me" face, I swear. O.o OH THE MELODRAMA.

* * *

Kira still dreams of Ichimaru Gin.

Renji knows it, can tell by the unsettled look in the blonde's eyes when he passes him on the street, the signs of tiredness and shame written all over his former classmate as he trudges forward towards another day, mind full of Ichimaru-taichou despite everything that the bastard has put him through.

It makes the redhead clench his teeth, makes him want to grab Kira right on the street and shake him, implore him to forget Gin and move on because it hurts Abarai's heart just watching him like this, lacking the spark the redhead remembers from their academy days, the one that made him think of Kira as his number one rival.

But he looks too fragile to shake now, and instead, Renji finds himself asking Kira why he looks so tired in an over-friendly manner, downplaying his frustration despite the fact that he knows exactly what's going on.

Kira always smiles back sheepishly and it's so fake Renji wants to wince, though he listens patiently to Kira's excuses of having a lot of work all the time anyway.

Kira still dreams of Ichimaru Gin and Renji knows it, because he heard it one night, passing by as Kira moaned and cried out in his sleep, the sounds coming from the blonde's window indistinguishable to Abarai as either good or bad.

And that's all he needs to know to know that Kira dreams of Gin still, because Renji thinks that that bastard is the only one he's ever known who can make good and bad interchangeable.

Renji hates it because the Kira Izuru of his memories is full of life and strength, full of an ambition and energy that the other vice-captain can no longer see in his friend anymore.

It's as if Gin took all the good parts out of Kira to save for himself.

And Renji endures it for as long as he can, watches the time passes by as Kira continues to trudge down the roads of seireitei only half there, the other half of him still trapped in dreams of Ichimaru Gin, in a place where cries of pain and pleasure all blend into the same thing.

Renji endures it and endures it and hopes that it will get better soon.

But when it doesn't, when it keeps going and he loses what precious little patience he has, he finds himself one day, out of the blue, grabbing Kira and shaking him.

He shakes him and shakes him and asks why Kira has to see that bastard every time he closes his eyes when there are a million other things in the world worth dreaming about.

Kira struggles and cries out and begs Renji to leave him be, to let him settle this alone.

Renji is horrified when his hands bruise Kira's arms and shoulders because unintentionally, he's been clutching at him too roughly.

He is even more horrified when Kira moans and shudders and closes his eyes as Renji releases him, the blonde dropping to his knees and holding his bruised skin around the collar of his uniform, face flushed and breathing like Renji remembers hearing on that night when he'd passed by Izuru's open window.

"Kira, sorry…I…" he trails off and stares at the finger-shaped red spot peeking out at him from under the white of his friend's clothing.

And then he sees the blonde's pink cheeks as he kneels on the ground with his arms around himself, looking up at Renji with a mixture of surprise and incredulity, his mouth slightly parted and his breaths coming out in little puffs of air.

And Renji is absolutely horrified at the sight of Kira now, telling himself that this is what Gin did, this is what he has molded Kira into after all this time.

Kira Izuru is a man aroused by his own pain.

Abarai Renji doesn't know what to do, looking helplessly down at the shadow of his friend, thinking that this is all that is left of the real Kira Izuru.

What can he do with this?

How can he help?

There are tears in the corners of Kira's eyes and Renji finds himself kneeling in front of the other man before he can stop himself, dumbly cupping those flushed cheeks in both of his hands and brushing the tears away with his thumb, murmuring a string of apologies both to Izuru and for him, the redhead closing his eyes and touching his forehead to the other man's gently.

It's all he can think of to do.

And Kira shivers at the gentle touch, making Renji pull him into a hug in response, the two of them sitting on the ground in the middle of the street together, not knowing what to do next.

It might have been funny for all its ridiculousness.

Renji might've even laughed.

Except he can feel Kira's tears soaking through his shirt as he pets the other man's hair, can feel it just as solidly as he can feel the blonde's arousal pressed against his hip.

And all Renji can think as he sits there holding Kira, is that they have much farther to go than he first thought.

**END**


	236. Fatherhood

**236.**

**Title:** Fatherhood  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Isshin, Ryuuken, Kenpachi**  
Word Count:** 802  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers. Or at least, big ones. Some um, OOC sappy though.  
**Summary:** What being a father means.  
**Dedication:** My uncle- I have the kind of close family relations in which my uncle is less of an uncle and more like a second father. Sometimes good and sometimes bad, depending on you know, what happens. Double the praise, but double the punishment as well.--;;**  
A/N: **I was horrible this weekend and instead of writing, gorged myself on reading and re-reading some amazing Petshop of Horrors fanfiction. Bad me. ;; But yeah, I know this is kind of disjointed and the three of them probably have no business being in the same drabble EVER, but you know how I am with papas. So you know, this is my random sort of collage of papa-ness in Bleach as seen through my favorite Bleach daddies.

* * *

For Kurosaki Isshin, fatherhood is the joy of having your children know that they're stuck with you for life and have no say in the matter whatsoever.

For Ishida Ryuuken, fatherhood is the realization that what's best for your child is not the same as what they think is best for them. Helping them towards learning and accepting that you have their best interests at heart is the longest, most difficult part of the journey. But, as he anticipates, it is well worth it should you succeed.

For Zaraki Kenpachi, fatherhood is watching her terrorize to her heart's content and not stepping in or doing anything to help or hinder unless absolutely necessary, because the best part about being one of the strong ones is being able to test the limits of that strength on others and see how much you can grow from that encounter, how much one can learn from a self-dependent battle.

For Isshin, being a dad means Saturday morning excursions to shop for new clothes and pick out cute outfits for his girls while checking out mall-babes with his son, who doesn't really do it with him, but who stands his company because as long as Isshin's there _talking_ to Ichigo about the babes, it means that he's incapable of _doing_ those things he's talking about to those poor girls at the moment.

For Ryuuken, having a son means constant checks into Uryuu's bank account to make sure he is provided for. He makes deposits in it at the end of every two weeks like clockwork, with very precise compensations or adjustments made for particular months, such as those when school fees are due or when the list price of certain foods he knows his son likes have risen due to unforeseeable circumstances such as crop failure or typhoons or international politics. Also, he makes sure on special months, say, months that have Uryuu's birthday in them, that there is something a little extra on top of his calculations in those deposits in the hope that his son will maybe go out and have a nice dinner with friends should he (in the most likely case) not want to spend his special day with what family he has left.

For Kenpachi, having Yachiru means a constant bombardment of sweetly innocent questions that he doesn't always know the answers to but is obligated to make some sort of response up for anyway, just because there's something about the way she looks up at him as she asks those questions that makes it impossible for him to let her down by not knowing. That is currently why she believes that babies come from women who get drunk on special days of the week and that Ikkaku's head has to be extra shiny so aliens can bounce signals off of it from space and take it as a sign that they aren't allowed to invade seireitei.

For Isshin, having children is the ultimate product of the love he shared with Masaki and is in part, a powerful symbol that transcends her death and their separation in this lifetime. Karin, Yuzu and Ichigo are all the legacy of a love that will never die, the results of a perfect union between two people meant for one another.

For Ryuuken, Uryuu is the one thing in the world he wants to protect now. His son is the sole reason why he sits in a dark office alone for eleven hours a day only to come back to an equally dark, lonely house and the knowledge that tomorrow will be exactly the same thing all over again.

For Kenpachi, Yachiru's presence in his life is the same as having a name for the first time, she the first person in his life to call him by one. The weight of her on his shoulders tells him that no matter what the world wants to throw at the two of them, they will always overcome by means of their superior strength and firepower. Back to back, no force in the universe can stop them.

For all of three of them, every day is its own special trial, every moment its own unique and irreplaceable experience. Each one of them goes through very different things under very different circumstances, but the thing that unites them all is the fact that they are fathers, that they are part of a family, and that, while always interesting, is never easy.

Isshin calls it a trial of a man's burning love.

Ryuuken believes it is a duty of flesh and blood.

Kenpachi, at this point, can only see it as an instance of "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

Whatever the case, each and every one of them knows that they wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

**END**


	237. Day in and Day out

**237.**

**Title:** Day in and Day out  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** ShuuxYumi, Iba**  
Word Count:** 992 (and this is AFTER I cut out 200+ words. O.o)  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but OOC fluff/sap   
**Summary:** Shuuhei and the beauty of routines.  
**Dedication:** Everyone at who's not harassing me in bad ways. Your feedback and support are much appreciated.**  
A/N: **I felt like fluff. Just…lots of fluff. Last week was tiring. --;;

* * *

Iba is always telling Shuuhei that he really doesn't understand the whole monogamy thing, not with guys as handsome as the two of them, who don't have to worry about finding companionship on cold nights, who at their leisure, can pick and choose different people according to particular tastes at any one time.

And Shuuhei is always frowning at him for that, because he knows his friend is still trying to talk him out of something he sees as crazy.

Sticking with one person as Shuuhei's been doing and all that.

But Shuuhei doesn't get angry at the taller man for it, thinking that there are simply some things that Iba won't be able to understand until he experiences them himself.

Because despite whether Shuuhei is good looking enough, despite the logic that he might be able to seduce many women into his bed, ultimately, it's not a matter of can so much as won't.

And Iba just doesn't understand that, and never will until he experiences for himself, the things that are so great about coming back to the same person everyday.

Because the other man doesn't yet realize the beauty of a familiar touch of skin or a well-mapped body curled up against his own, doesn't now the satisfaction of a voice one knows all the littlest nuances of or the secret things one can learn about another person with time, the things that earn the softest sighs or most enthusiastic quivers.

And maybe that's what Iba's missing, which is the reason why Shuuhei can't really be angry when the other man asks him what's so great about going back everyday to Ayasekawa when there are a million women ready to warm his bed at will, all there for the picking.

Shuuhei thinks it's because those million other women don't have that ticklish spot on the back of their necks like Yumi does, the one that makes him laugh and squirm in the most delicious way, makes him sigh and breathe Shuuhei's name whenever Hisagi takes it between his teeth or touches it with his tongue.

And those million other women don't know the way Shuuhei likes to be kissed, open-mouthed and deep, or how he likes to leave love bites on perfect white throats and on the insides of soft-skinned thighs, a trail that marks possession despite the fact that no one else will ever see it.

They won't sigh "I love you" in his ear when they come, or when they wake, or before they fall asleep, or just because, and they won't know that he likes a morning roll in the sack, when he's just waking up and warm and with Yumi there in his arms, his head perfectly tucked under Shuuhei's chin.

And those strangers definitely wouldn't pack him lunch and kiss him on his way out the door every morning, long and lingering and tasting like mint toothpaste or strawberry jam, depending on the time and whether they're late considering how long that morning quickie took.

They won't eat with him at dinner, at home after a long day and too tired for anything else. They won't know that he doesn't like ginger as much as garlic, won't remember that he's allergic to some seafood and that he only eats broccoli cooked and carrots raw and not the other way around.

They won't look at him from over the rim of their teacups and know exactly what he's thinking when he's thinking it, won't climb into bed with him and just snuggle when they're both tired, whispering about their days instead of having sex and somehow, managing to make that not boring at all.

Worst of all, if he took a different woman to bed with him every night, he wouldn't have the way Yumi smells, warm and clean and familiar when he buries his nose into the curve of his neck and breathes deep, wouldn't have the assurance that Yumi only sleeps on his left side and likes to stick his toes in-between Shuuhei's calves on cold nights to keep them warm but designates two distinct halves of the bed to stay on when it's too hot to be touching.

He wouldn't have that sense of knowing every little detail, would lose that affection, warm and real, that he's come to rely on after all this time together. And he thinks that Iba just won't understand it until he forgets about those millions of women and maybe focuses on just one for a while. Then maybe he'll be able to discover the joy of knowing someone better than he knows himself.

He brings it up with Yumi one day, when they're lying together and not talking about anything particular, his fingers threading the other man's hair. "Do you think Iba needs a girlfriend?"

Yumi snorts, and with Shuuhei's other hand held in-between his, announces that Iba "needs a saint."

Shuuhei smiles into Yumichika's skin at that, and asks his lover if he knows anyone who might fit the bill.

Smirking, Yumi says that it's too bad he's already taken, but maybe he knows a few slightly less saintly-saints in another division.

They both pause for a moment, just idly stroking each other's hands.

And then simultaneously, they grin and announce, "It would never work."

Shuuhei chuckles at their shared conclusions and pulls Yumi closer, leaning forward for a rather bemused kiss, which Yumi obliges.

After a moment, the bemusement melts away into something more appreciative and in perfect harmony; Yumichika tilts his head back and parts his lips at the exact moment Shuuhei pushes forward in search of better access.

And as Shuuhei begins to delve into that sweetly familiar mouth, searching for all the spots that make Yumi shiver, he can't help but think that Iba really is missing out on the best things in the world.

He hopes that one day his friend will be able to find them for himself too.

**END**


	238. Thug Love

**238.**

**Title:** Thug Love   
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Kira, Renji, Ikkaku, Iba, Shuuhei, Kenpachi**  
Word Count:** 673  
**Warning/s: **Sort-of spoilers by proxy for the Soul Society arc  
**Summary:** Hardened thugs and booze and mahjong. And stuff.  
**Dedication:** John, for the "barrel of squashed assholes". --;;**  
A/N: **I 3 Woobies. Plus I've been so terrible to Kira lately I figured I should maybe pamper him a _little._ Sort of.

* * *

"He's drunk."

"'m not drunk."

Ikkaku scowled. "Ya are too."

Kira scowled back. "Am not."

The fact that _Kira_ was _scowling_ was enough to convince everyone that he was drunk.

Renji cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Maybe ya shouldn't have anymore of that, huh Kira?" he suggested, gesturing vaguely to the bottle clutched between both of the blonde's hands.

"'m not drunk!" Izuru protested again, tears gathering in little pools atop his eyes.

The other four sucked in a collective breath.

"Look, we all know ya can't exactly hold yer alcohol, Kira, so why don't you…"

Iba was abruptly cut off as two twin teardrops trickled down the side of Izuru's alcohol-flushed face.

"Ah geez," Shuuhei sighed, looking away and turning a little red in the face himself at the sight.

"Well now ya've gone and done it," Renji growled, glaring at Iba. "Ya made him cry."

"Wadn't my fault!" Iba growled back, though he looked properly shamed anyway. "Look Kira, I'm sorry, I didn't mean ta, well you know. I got your best interests at heart, don't I?"

Kira wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand pathetically. And then sniffled.

Ikkaku visibly winced. "Oh fer cryin' out loud, just let him have the booze, alright? He's had a tough time of it all."

Renji sighed. "Still, ain't good for him," he muttered, rubbing a small circle along Izuru's back with one hand.

"S-sorry everyone," Kira murmured, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

Four handkerchiefs were immediately offered.

The blonde offered a watery smile and took one. The other three were returned to pockets but kept handy in case anyway. "S-sorry," Izuru repeated, blowing his nose. "I don't mean to make you all worry."

"Ain't your fault," the other four replied in unison.

"Hey, how's about we go over to senpai's house and play some mahjong, yeah?" Renji offered after a second, surreptitiously guiding the sake bottle out of the blonde's hand and leading him towards the doors.

"Yeah, yeah. That'd be fine," Shuuhei agreed quickly, as Ikkaku swiped the bottle out of sight by angling it so it disappeared behind Iba's larger frame.

Iba took the cue and slipped the bottle into his own hand, sidestepping and depositing it onto the ground behind his feet. "That's a good idea," he agreed solemnly. "Been a while since we all just sat 'round and played a good game, right?"

"Course. Yeah," Ikkaku agreed. "C'mon, we'll go right now. That okay, Kira?"

Kira sniffed and wiped a little more at his eyes with the handkerchief and nodded. "Yeah…that sounds nice," he allowed, looking up gamely, eyes relatively dry and a small smile managing to push through from the corners of his lips.

The other four sighed in relief. "Alright then, let's go."

Back at the bar, Zaraki Kenpachi stared after the quintet and wondered what happened to the golden age of the thug.

Though he had to admit that there was something about watching Kira Izuru cry that got him right…well, you know.

But still, that was no excuse to go and get all soft on a guy, pretty face or not. Fellas like those guys should be tougher than that, 'specially Abarai, Iba, and Ikkaku, considering that they all had eleventh division blood in 'em.

Kenpachi decided that maybe he'd give the idiots a stern talking to come morning.

He'd do it now if it were any other time, but it was really too late tonight, 'specially since he had to get back to headquarters to put Yachiru down for the night, else she'd get fussy and be cranky with him all day tomorrow if he didn't read to her and tuck her in right and proper like she liked.

Sighing, Kenpachi stood, paid his bar tab and left, thinking to himself that yeah, tomorrow he'd talk to the boys 'bout their little slip up.

Because really, no self-respecting badass should be caught dead bein' all soft and _sensitive_ like that.

Just made the world lose all respect for 'em, ya know?

**END**


	239. Sleep Talk

**239.**

**Title:** Sleep Talk  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** KyourakuxUkitake**  
Word Count:** 315  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just some strange fluff. --;;  
**Summary:** Kyouraku talks in his sleep.  
**Dedication:** Lisa- OMG Ep 54 so COOL.**  
A/N: **I don't know. I felt like writing something silly.-- ;;

* * *

Kyouraku has fallen asleep on top of him again.

Ukitake sighs helplessly when the other captain's soft snores start right beside his ear, a sure fire sign that tells Jyuushirou he is effectively trapped for the night.

Shunsui's solid weight pins Ukitake to the mattress, and with the other man's nose pressed up against the side of Ukitake's throat, the thirteenth division leader squirms in an attempt to get more comfortable despite the fact that Shunsui's beard is scratchy against his shoulder and his breath smells vaguely of alcohol.

The white-haired captain wishes this wasn't as familiar a position as it is.

But it's very familiar, and he knows now, after many years, that at this point in time Shunsui is dead to the world. The best he can hope for at the moment is to find a way of making himself comfortable enough to get some sleep.

So he relaxes the muscles in his back and presses his cheek against Kyouraku's hair, grateful that at least his lover isn't talking in his sleep like last time, murmuring nonsensical words about this and that and a few other things that had earned him a good thwack upside the head come morning time.

"Mmm… ladies… please, please… plenty of ole Shun-chan to go around, hmmm? One at a time now…or maybe two if you're feeling adventurous…heh, heh…"

Ukitake rolls his eyes when the talking begins promptly after his last thought. He supposes that this is mostly his own fault for having spoken too soon.

But not_ entirely_.

In the morning, the alarm goes off exactly at seven. And the moment Shunsui opens his eyes, Ukitake kisses him good morning, smacks him in the head, and wriggles out from under him so that he can go and fix them both breakfast.

Kyouraku blinks after the other man, and rubbing his head, wonders what he said _this_ time.

**END**


	240. No Going Back

**240.**

**Title:** No Going Back  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** RenjixIzuru, mentions GinxIzuru **  
Word Count:** 998  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Sequel to #235 (The Long Road Ahead)- Something's changed between Kira and Renji now.  
**Dedication:** Nicole- Happy (late now) Birthday!**  
A/N: **Ummmmm, I think I'm very bad at this whole RenjixIzuru thing, but dammit if I didn't try. Ah well… this is why I suck at gift-fic. --;;

* * *

Kira can't quite look at Renji the same anymore, not after that incident a few days ago that left bruises on his throat and a flush on his cheeks, left him panting and aroused in the middle of the street. In contrast, the redhead--stubborn as he is—refuses to look at Kira any differently, is in fact, making a conscious effort not to. However, Kira knows that something has changed between them and there's just no going back to the way things used to be. 

But unmovable Renji refuses to avoid touching Kira like any sane person would after their previous encounter, the other man always reaching out like the honest idiot he is, warm, solid touches that aren't meant to tease, his fingers strong but not painful on Kira's skin.

It puzzles Kira, makes him flush in an inexplicable way, and he thinks that something has definitely changed between them, because while those stupidly honest hands on the blonde's shoulders or brushing his arms or rubbing his back are clumsy and unskilled-- everything that Gin's weren't—they make him feel as if Renji's grabbed him and shaken him all over again.

Something's definitely changed, and while Renji might act like it hasn't, his hands on Kira's body and Kira's reaction to them say otherwise.

As the days go on, Kira finds that Renji's touch makes him quiver with anticipation.

It's driving him mad.

Renji's stupid and honest as he goes about it, brushing an arm or rubbing the small of Kira's back or gripping the arch of a shoulder, and it's all slowly driving Kira a little bit crazy.

The blonde feels as if he's being struck every time they touch. Sometimes it feels worse than Ichimaru's Gin's hands had when they'd been wrapped around his throat.

Because Renji's hands are beginning to have the exact same effect on him.

Except without the pain.

"Mornin' Kira."

Kira feels his cheeks pinken as Renji greets him this morning, exactly as he had the day before, reaching out and gripping the curve of the blonde's shoulder and squeezing firmly, gently. Acting all stupid and honest and looking at Kira like nothing's changed at all, even though it obviously has and they can't go back to their old friendship anymore.

Not after what Renji's discovered about him.

"M-morning," Kira stammers back, eyes bent downward so he doesn't have to see that genuine expression on Abarai's face.

"How're you feeling?" the redhead asks gently, not moving his hand.

"I'm… I…"

"What is it?"

Kira looks up at the other vice-captain with stricken eyes. "Please stop touching me," he asks suddenly, voice so quiet it breaks without a sound.

Renji blinks at that, though his hand does not move from Kira's shoulder.

After a moment, he asks, "Why?"

Kira balks and turns away at the blatant query, one hand grasping at his own collar in embarrassment. "I…when… when you…"

"Yeah?"

"I…I can't think when you touch me," he admits shamefully, clutching himself tighter and wondering what Renji must think of him now.

After a moment he feels the redhead's hand move away from his shoulder and breathes a little sigh of relief at that, the loss of contact making him feel less confused, less exposed.

He thinks that Renji must be disgusted with him again after that display of weakness, the second time in so many days.

Part of him is relieved at the thought because it means maybe Abarai won't touch him anymore, won't make him feel the same heat and flush and loss of breath that Gin did, only without the pain that he's grown accustomed to, that he's learned to welcome.

That's too strange for Kira now, too unfamiliar after the lessons Gin taught with bruising mouth and cutting hands.

It's a supreme relief, even if his old friend may not be able to stand the sight of him any longer.

"Heh. Atta boy."

Kira blinks at the sound of Renji's amused laughter and looks up into the face of the other vice-captain reflexively. "Eh?"

He is very confused.

Renji grins back, stupid and honest and tactless as always, completely disregarding the blonde's previous words as he leans forward to touch his forehead to Kira's with surprising gentleness. "So, ya finally noticed, eh?" he asks gruffly, voice rough beside the blonde's ear as he moves to embrace him.

And even though it's the complete opposite of how soft and smooth Ichimaru-taichou whispered, Kira shudders the same way anyway, feels his cheeks flush and his knees go weak just like they used to when his captain touched him. "Aa," he responds, managing to find breath somehow, Renji's arms solid and awkward, but there to keep him from falling down. "I…"

"I'm gonna show you," Renji murmurs. "I'm gonna show you that it can be good without bein' bad, got me?" he asks, fingers curling into the folds of Kira's sleeves tightly, but not enough to ache.

Kira feels like he's been struck anyway.

"I…"

Renji smirks and pulls Kira against him, hugging him just hard enough so that the blonde's nose is squished up against his shoulder, but not uncomfortably. "Gonna make you hot for the good stuff from now on. You'll see."

Kira shakes a little and thinks that Renji already has.

And while he'll always remember Ichimaru Gin's smooth voice and bruising fingers, while he'll always have the shadow of his former captain in his dreams, he thinks that maybe this is okay too, with Renji and his gruff promises, with those clumsy, honest fingers touching him without hurting.

Everything is changing now and Kira finds that he can't look at his old friend quite the same way anymore, not when he's holding him like this and making Izuru's blood boil in the same way Gin did at one time, though with very different hands.

Honest hands.

And for the first time since his captain left, Kira thinks that maybe everything will be okay.

Different, but okay.

**END**


	241. A Mystery, Wrapped in an Enigma,

**241.**

**Title:** A Mystery, Wrapped in an Enigma, Hidden in a Swishy Scarf  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Byakuya **  
Word Count:** 631  
**Warning/s: **Slight spoilers for the Soul Society Arc and a few chapters afterwards  
**Summary:** Byakuya discovers what his appeal stems from.  
**Dedication:** Christine- Happy (now late) b-day! Draw me gaaay! **  
A/N: **Well, I've done worse. Maybe? --;;

* * *

There's something about him that makes Renji call him such silly words as "alluring" and "mysterious". Byakuya doesn't really understand what the vice-captain means by that, given that the sixth division captain regards himself as very straightforward, but Abarai insists on it anyway, crowing in amusement whenever Byakuya turns any heads—male _or_ female—as he walks by.

"Taichou is so _mysterious_. Heh. People like that, I suppose, eh. Eh?"

Byakuya only finds himself able to frown back whenever Renji brings it up, because really, he doesn't understand a thing the idiot is talking about.

How does _walking_ make him mysterious?

It's not as if he can just _fly_ to work. Well, maybe he could. But it would be tiring and wasteful.

He asks Renji about it one day, when the redhead is being particularly obnoxious about the whole thing, leering at his captain like they should be in on some big cosmic joke together when obviously, it's just the vice-captain living in his own cracked world of delusions and general idiocy.

"What do you constantly mean by mysterious? I am not _mysterious._"

"Ya gotta be jokin' me right?"

Byakuya stares back levelly.

Renji snorts. "Oh man, ya mean you really don't know, taichou?" he asks incredulously.

Byakuya's eyes narrow. "I wouldn't have asked if I did, fukutaichou."

Renji grins back, and Byakuya thinks that ever since they'd come to an understanding in the infirmary after the fight with Aizen, the idiot has become a lot less respectful than he used to be.

"Welllll, _taichou_," Renji begins with a shark-like grin, "Lemme explain this so a respectable fella like yourself can understand, yeah?"

"Please," Byakuya responds dryly.

"Guy like you, good lookin', don't talk much, always serious, always responsible… _rich_… makes people think, ya know?"

Byakuya doesn't like where this is going.

"They figure you're ya know, a mystery… no one knows what you're thinkin'… what your motives are. Chicks—and I guess some fellas-- like that sorta thing. Well, that and the money, I suppose. Ain't much of a surprise they're all aflutter for ya."

Byakuya blinks at the redhead's assessment. "That's ridiculous."

Renji chuckles. "Ain't it?"

Byakuya has the feeling that he's being laughed at.

He doesn't quite like it.

"I think you're delusional, Renji."

Abarai smirks at that, because his captain's naiveté really is too damn _cute_ sometimes. "Na…if you're so sure, wanna test it, taichou?"

There is a distinct gleam in Renji's eye that is ever-so-slightly predatory. At that, Byakuya tells himself it's a sad, pathetic day when he is wary of Abarai, and that in mind, squares his shoulders a little more as he says challengingly, "Oh? Under what terms?"

The next morning, with much reluctance, Kuchiki Byakuya inexplicably stops to greet every person that stares at him on his way to the office, smiling graciously at them and telling them good morning.

Several women flutter and pass out in his arms, and three young men flush so red he might as well have been choking them between his own fingertips.

One man kneels and kisses his hand, a third-chair asks what his favorite food is and if he'd like to eat lunch with her later, and before the walk is done, he gets two marriage proposals from shinigami of respectable noble houses, if smaller ones than the Kuchiki family's.

Renji is behind Byakuya the entire time, strolling along and whistling like he's won some sort of lottery.

Byakuya, scowling, supposes he has. In a way.

When they reach the office, the sixth division captain, bound by honor, sighs as he takes his chair, wordlessly dismissing his vice-captain for the rest of the week.

Renji grins as he leaves the office for his first ever paid vacation, thinking that he's never bet on a surer thing.

**END **


	242. Tact and Diplomacy

**242.**

**Title:** Tact and Diplomacy  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** ShuuxYumi, Yachiru, Ikkaku, Renji, Iba, Kira**  
Word Count:** 990  
**Warning/s: **Soul Society Arc spoilers and LAMENESS.   
**Summary:** Sequel to #238 (Thug Love)- The boys play some mahjong and talk tough.  
**Dedication:** pausedsilence and luneetsoleil - thanks so much for the icons! 3 **  
A/N: **As requested by pausedsilence. Hope this isn't um, too lame? --;;

* * *

They'd all appeared in his living room without so much as a word of warning, and while Yumichika wanted to be annoyed for having been left so unprepared for their guests this evening, one apologetic glance from Shuuhei and a shift of his lover's eyes towards a slightly tipsy Kira Izuru was all it took for Yumi's pique to dissolve and set him instead, to preparing some snacks as the others set up to play mahjong.

Shuuhei joined him in the kitchen a second later.

"Listen, sorry I…"

"It's fine," Yumi assured him, though he frowned a little bit anyway. "But you do remember…"

"Yeah. I know. Yachiru, right?"

"Right."

They shared a worried look.

It wasn't that Zaraki Kenpachi _wanted_ to do it, but every so often he was required as a captain to go into the field with some of the senior academy classes for hands-on training, and while those assignments usually took less than three or four days (in his case), the fact of the matter was he couldn't very well take Yachiru with him.

Which meant finding babysitters.

And that was usually just Yumichika, considering that Zaraki was pretty sure the other idiots in his division were about as reliable as Mayuri was when it came to handling young girls, and hell if he'd return to seireitei only to find his vice-captain bathing in the blood of half his men who, in not knowing how to handle her, had riled her to the point of getting her to want to _play_ with them.

Yumichika was a good, safe babysitter. And while Kenpachi wouldn't admit it out loud _ever_, Shuuhei was a pretty reliable type of guy after all, except for his being a magnificent pansy.

In short, the pair had charge of the eleventh division vice-captain for the next few days.

"It should be fine," Yumichika assured the other man as he pulled various bags of chips and rice crackers from the cupboard. "She's in our room drawing right now and…"

"Ow, ow, ow… dammit Yachiru, stop that!"

A yelp and a crash from the living room confirmed their worst fears, and with another apologetic look at Yumi, Shuuhei rushed back out.

Yachiru never could quite resist giving Ikkaku's big, shiny head a good chew.

What a relief that that was all.

"Waaaah, everyone's here!" Yachiru exclaimed after a moment, wiping at the back of her mouth with her sleeve as Ikkaku scowled and grabbed a napkin, irately removing the drool from his scalp. "What're we playin', shiny-baldy-smooth head?"

"This ain't a game for kids!" Ikkaku growled. "Past your bedtime too, isn't it Yachiru?"

She beamed. "Nope, not yet! Why does droopy-eyes smell like stink?"

Kira blinked. "I…"

"Ah…ain't nothin' like that, Kira!" Renji hastily covered, patting the blonde's arm. "You know…these kids. Don't know what proper booze smells like. Ya smell fine. Ain't that right, Iba?"

Tetsuzaemon blinked awkwardly at the inquiry. "Come again?"

"Smells _fine_, right?" Renji reiterated with a bit of a growl in his voice.

"Uh. Oh. Yeah. Ya smell real good, Kira. Like er, flowers or somethin'. Right nice," the seventh division vice-captain assured the blonde hastily, even going so far as to lean sideways and take a big whiff of the air around Izuru before smiling broadly.

Kira stared a little. "Uh…thanks?"

Yachiru, completely not buying it for a minute, materialized on Kira's shoulder a second later, sniffing thoroughly before wrinkling her nose and covering it with her sleeve. "Nuh uh, he smells like something died in his mouth!" she accused, looking at Renji and Iba accusatorily.

"Snacks are here!" Yumi announced, bursting into the room with well-timed flourish, before Renji and Iba could think of a response to Yachiru's exclamations. "Ne, Yachiru, do you want to help me get everyone something to drink?" he asked very calmly.

"Nope," she responded easily, jumping up onto Shuuhei's shoulder then, so she could look at Yumichika properly. "Ne, feather-brow… you should smell droopy-eyes too… dumb-glasses and butt-monkey think he smells nice, but he doesn't at all! Smells like how you said ShuuShuu's breath does in the mornin'!"

Shuuhei blinked. "Wait…what?"

"Ahahahaha…kids, right?" Yumi asked, setting the snack tray down and busying himself with serving the guests.

Renji blinked. "Did she just call me butt-monkey?"

"What's dumb about my glasses?"

"Oi…Yumi…what'd she mean 'bout my breath?"

"Nothing, dear! You know how she tends to misquote things and…"

"What the hell would she have to misquote to call me _butt-monkey_!"

"Well, ya sort of are Kuchiki-taichou's bitch. Ehehehehe."

Renji scowled. "Shut the hell up, Ikkaku."

Ikkaku continued to preen. "Just sayin', is all."

"Oh yeah? Your luck-luck dance is retarded."

"Hey! When did this get to personal attacks like that?"

"Your dance _is_ kinda stupid," Iba agreed thoughtfully.

"Not as stupid as _your glasses_."

"Say another word 'bout my glasses and I'll cut ya, ya bald bastard, I mean it."

"Oh, threatenin' me now, are ya? Can ya even _see_ with those stupid things coverin' your eyes?"

In the background, Kira looked stricken.

He sniffled.

The room went silent.

"Oi…er…what's the matter Kira?" Renji asked, carefully.

"We're uh, we're real sorry 'bout the noise," Ikkaku added.

Iba looked abashed. "Heh, right. You know us. Just foolin' around. How about we start the game now, yeah?"

Kira looked at the others hopelessly. "Are my eyes really droopy?" he asked, bottom lip quivering.

"Yes!" Yachiru responded happily.

Everyone else yelled, "No!"

They spent the rest of the evening convincing Kira that Ichimaru-taichou had left because he was an evil bastard, not because he thought the blonde's eyes were droopy and unattractive.

Several exhausting hours later, Yumi thought that maybe it was time to teach his vice-captain the finer points of a little something called…tact.

Shuuhei, feeling headachy, thought it was a little bit sad when _Yumichika_ felt the need to teach someone how to be tactful.

But, he supposed, that was just how some things went.

**END**


	243. Dead and Gone

**243.**

**Title:** Dead and Gone  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Hinamori, Aizen**  
Word Count:** 555 (I didn't do it on purpose, I swear)  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Hinamori reads his letter over and over again.  
**Dedication:** Joanne- because she's going to make me Kenpachi Icons. YES. **  
A/N: **Um… I just felt like being mean to Hinamori? I dunno. I'm kind of sick of myself lately so I guess it just shows? ;; I am lame with the comedy and redundant with the serious. IS THERE NO SAFE MIDDLE GROUND FOR ME? --;;

* * *

For Hinamori, Aizen-taichou had died the moment she saw his body, somehow still warm and regal to her as it was pinned to the stone wall, looking down at them with vacant eyes.

For her, that was when her captain died.

And as she sat in her hospital room with his last letter in-between her hands, she told herself exactly that, convinced herself that her Aizen-taichou was dead long before she was stabbed, the man from before and the man that hurt her not one and the same.

It was simply impossible to believe.

And so she stared down at the letter in her hands and despite its lies, could not help but consider it her beloved captain's last words, his very final thoughts to her before he was murdered.

Because the man that betrayed them was not Aizen-taichou. Not to her.

Her captain was dead and cold long before she set eyes on that criminal, the one who wore his face but was not—could not be—him.

Her Aizen-taichou was warm and kind, his hands always gentle, his voice soothing. He smelled of books and ink and finely aged paper and had the kind of smile only good men had. He took his little vice-captain on picnics and read to her in that deep, calming voice after she'd woken up from a nightmare and sought solace in his room. He patted her head and brought her sweets and never once grew impatient with her, never once raised his voice.

That was her Aizen-taichou, the one she really knew and remembered. The one who was murdered on that day what seems like a lifetime ago, left cold and still and bleeding on the pristine white walls of seireitei as some sort of sick sacrifice, a prelude to the birth of Soul Society's most deadly criminal.

She held the letter containing her Aizen-taichou's last words between her fingertips and read them over and over again even though she already knew it all by heart, even though she knew it said terrible things, horrible lies.

Because they were still the last precious words to her from her Aizen-taichou after all, and now that he was dead and gone, it was all she really had left.

And so she sat in her hospital bed and read those words over and over again, crying sometimes, numb at others, all the while thinking that this was really it.

Aizen Sousuke was dead.

She clutched her dead captain's final words to her, held them tight against her chest, and mourned his passing.

And then, with tears in her eyes, she promised herself that one day, one day she would avenge him.

She would kill the man who had killed him, the one who wore his face but could not steal his smile, could not imitate its warmth.

Because the one who it truly belonged to was dead.

Her captain was dead.

And the man who was responsible for that had to pay.

Hinamori Momo sat in her hospital bed and slowly recovered from the stab wound in her chest, holding her dead captain's precious last words in-between her hands and swearing vengeance.

As the days passed and she started to regain strength, she began to discover that the tears came less and less.

Until eventually, all that remained was revenge.

**END**


	244. 16 Years Ago This Day

**244.**

**Title:** Sixteen Years Ago This Day  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Ryuuken**  
Word Count:** 679  
**Warning/s: **Um, non-important spoilers for the post-Soul Society Arc. (ie who Ryuuken _is_)  
**Summary:** Ryuuken bears a heavy burden.  
**Dedication:** Everyone who's not sick of me writing Ryuuken. --;;**  
A/N: **I'm still sick of myself, but I needed to do something for Ishida's birthday, because I love him. --;;

* * *

It's Uryuu's birthday today.

Normally Ryuuken doesn't put much weight into trivial things like birthdays, but oddly enough, he is always conscious of Uryuu's even several days before the fact. And on the day itself he finds his thoughts full of nothing but his son, finds himself wondering, hoping, worrying without aim, sitting in his office staring out the window and not getting a thing done.

It never fails. On this day every year for the past sixteen years, he finds his thoughts consumed by the concerns of a parent, even more so than on any other day.

Ryuuken thinks that it's because the birth of a child is something incredibly profound in the life of any person, something so weighty and unforgettable that even someone as busy as himself is forced to remember that day when it comes again, even when at the same time, he might forget his own birthday, might even begin to forget the face of a kindly father or the touch of a long dead wife.

He never seems to forget Uryuu's birthday, even when his son is far away, even when his son does not wish to see him.

Because on this day sixteen years ago, Ryuuken remembers exactly how it felt to hold his son in his arms for the first time, the overwhelming joy of fatherhood inexplicably swirling together with the debilitating sorrow of becoming a widower at exactly the same moment.

It had been simultaneously too wonderful and too horrible to bear.

On this day sixteen years ago, Uryuu was born and Ryuuken will never be able to forget how it felt to hold that squirming, squalling baby against his chest, knowing that he was the only person left in the world responsible for this child, knowing that it was his job to provide for everything that this precious, tiny life might require.

And maybe that's why he can never forget this day, Uryuu's birthday, even sixteen years after the fact. Because the emotions he felt on that day have sunk into every last bone of his body, have become an unconscious trigger that is always there, reminding him that he has a son.

That on this day sixteen years ago, he became a father.

It is too heavy a weight to forget.

And that weight presses into him with every breath he takes as he sits at his desk holding a pen tightly between his fingers. It is truly overwhelming.

Before long Ryuuken finds himself leaving his office early today, finds himself getting into his car and driving to his son's school and wondering perhaps, if merely seeing that his child is well provided for is enough, that there is yet more for him to do as a father whether Uryuu wishes for it or not.

He parks on the street outside of the school and waits, an hour until the bell, and when students begin to stream out in waves promptly at three, he holds his breath and grips the wheel and allows himself this one weakness for today, because it is a special day.

When he sees Uryuu pass through the gate, surrounded by what looks like many friends, Ryuuken feels the muscles in his neck and arms relax, and with a little breath, he leans back into the driver's seat of his car and takes his glasses off so he can clean them. It's exactly the same, he thinks. That feeling is the same today as it had been sixteen years ago.

The profound weight of fatherhood.

He waits until Uryuu has walked out of sight before he starts the car again.

He drives back to the clinic and goes directly to his office so he can go back to work, freshly reminded that this wonderful precious life is his responsibility, that it his job to provide for Uryuu everything he needs as the boy's only remaining parent.

Ryuuken turns on his desk lamp and bends over his desk, the feeling heavy and wonderful on his shoulders.

In his heart, he wishes Uryuu a happy birthday.

**END **


	245. 100 Years of Solitude

**245.**

**Title:** One Hundred Years of Solitude  
**Rating: **PG-13   
**Pairing/Character/s: ** YoruichixSoi Fong (ish)**  
Word Count:** 574  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary: **Yoruichi doesn't know what to say.  
**Dedication:** John- For being my bitch in the kitchen and makin' me paaaancakes. I RUB YOU. **  
A/N: **A little sappy? Maybe. I'm not good with Yuri, obviously. O.o

* * *

What do you say after a hundred years gone?

Yoruichi looks at the girl she left behind more than a century ago and doesn't know what to say now that everything is quiet between them. Before, when it had only been fighting and posturing and big words, she'd known how to respond to each of Soi Fong's little barbs, her arrogance and her anger, her betrayal.

But there's something infinitely more complicated in trying to understand someone instead of kill them, and as the two of them sit here in silence and lick the wounds from their previous fight, neither of them seems to know what to do next.

Yoruichi watches Soi Fong bandage her own arm, head bent downward, glaring helplessly as the white cloth wraps around bruised and broken skin, her movements jerky and just the slightest bit unsure.

And Yoruichi finds herself searching her mind for something to say, something that will explain why she left without a word or warning, why she hadn't returned, why she'd given up everything the moment Kisuke had asked her to.

But words don't come that easily, and she finds herself longing for the time long past, when words were no longer needed between the two of them, when she could just reach out with a hand and touch Soi Fong's shoulder, when she could smile and kiss the other woman's forehead and have those gestures communicate everything she ever wanted to say.

But they're a hundred years beyond that now, and Yoruichi knows she's at least that many years late in saying what she should've said before she'd disappeared without a word, without a trace.

She can't help but wish that they could go back, just like that, to those soft touches and fond smiles, when the only voices they'd used were secret sighs and phantom whispers in each other's ears and nothing else was needed to tell Soi Fong what she was thinking or how she felt.

It's ridiculous because she feels like she's suddenly a child all over again, despite her age, standing here staring while her former subordinate silently wraps herself in strips of white, neither of them able to say what they feel because they're a hundred years too late, ten thousand invisible steps behind each other both at the same time.

So she stands silently by and watches Soi Fong wrap her arm, awkward and angry as she grips the end of the bandage between her teeth and tries to tie it off, pulling too fast and too hard and making the top wrench tightly while the bottom begins to unravel.

Suddenly she finds herself by the younger shinigami's side, an instinctual step forward before she knows what she's doing. She grasps the end of the bandage in one hand and looks into Soi Fong's startled eyes before smiling and shaking her head at her former subordinate, allowing herself to chuckle a little at the absurdity of it all.

"Here. Let me."

Soi Fong blinks at her and then frowns, looking purposefully away as two pink spots blossom unbidden on her pale cheeks.

"…very well."

Yoruichi wraps the bandage for the younger woman gently, her fingertips working quickly and neatly, pausing to linger ever so slightly on bruised white skin as she finishes, saying everything she can in that one tentative touch.

When she feels Soi Fong shudder almost imperceptibly in response, she smiles to herself.

It's a start.

**END**


	246. Shafted

**246.**

**Title:** Shafted   
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Shuuhei, Kira, Hinamori, Soi Fong**  
Word Count:** 843  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc  
**Summary:** The shafted three brood.  
**Dedication:** luneetsoleil- I totally owe you don't I? But duuude, give me a specific request because I seriously don't know what you'd want. Or c'mon, at least a list of favorites. XD  
**A/N: **Argh I started out with the intention of writing something funny, but all I got was weird serious stuff and obviously, I SUCK at this. --;;

* * *

They get together sometimes, just when they're too sad or too tired or too fed up with everything to get anything else done.

They get together and they sit and they don't really talk, sipping drinks and sighing back and forth between one another, those soft sounds all the understanding and sympathy they need.

Kira's not allowed to have alcohol anymore, and Shuuhei makes sure his kouhai remembers that, giving him milk or juice or warm cocoa to drink instead.

Hinamori cries sometimes, and Hisagi brings two handkerchiefs incase she does, one for her to wipe her eyes with and one for her to blow her nose on, because using the same one for both is kind of gross.

He doesn't know why, but taking care of his two former underclassmen does something to ease his own pain. It might be petty, but he thinks it's because he knows for certain that they are suffering more than he is, knows that despite Kaname's betrayal, Tousen was not a captain who deliberately sought his subordinates' heartstrings and tangled them around his own designs.

Shuuhei supposes that Ichimaru and Aizen were.

All in all, the three of them make a rather pathetic sight, sitting together sipping their drinks and sighing to themselves because they just don't know what else to do.

No one else knows what to do either.

There's something about trying to help that feels muted and unsuccessful, though Iba has tried, though Renji has tried, though even Ikkaku has put in an attempt or two.

But it falls flat in the face of everything, because what matters in the end is the fact that none of their captains betrayed them.

Stern Komamura-taichou, cold Kuchiki-taichou, fearsome Zaraki-taichou—though they may not seem to be, are infinitely kinder than smiling Ichimaru-taichou, than gentle Aizen-taichou and honorable Tousen-taichou.

They have not left their subordinates behind.

And so no one else can really understand them but themselves, and Kira and Shuuhei and Hinamori get together sometimes and sit in silence, thinking beside one another and sighing because there's nothing left to say.

They feel as though no one else understands them.

And then one day Soi Fong-taichou storms into their circle of misery and kicks over Kira's cocoa, telling him to grow a backbone. She scowls at Hinamori to cease her incessant crying and demands that Shuuhei stop coddling the both of them simply because it makes him feel better.

Hisagi frowns back and begs her pardon, telling her that she can't possibly understand what they've been through and that she shouldn't be so harsh on any of them.

Her eyes glint dangerously and he braces himself to be attacked by the second division leader while Kira and Hinamori look on with wide, frightened eyes.

"My leader left me once too."

Shuuhei blinks when the small captain says that, her eyes looking away from the group for a brief moment. "I understand."

And then they remember that she does.

Another silence falls over the group and Soi Fong scoffs before sitting down at their epicenter, cross-legged and frowning at the lot of them.

And for a moment afterwards, Hinamori is too puzzled to sniff and Kira is too bewildered to sigh.

Even Shuuhei is too busy anticipating to pay either of them very much attention.

After a beat, Soi Fong lets out a little breath and says, "Become stronger. Learn to believe in yourselves. That's all you can do."

Her tone is clipped and cool, though Shuuhei senses something below the surface there that makes him believe her simple solution more than any of the numerous others he's heard from others over the past few weeks.

A minute ticks by and then tentatively, Kira raises a hand and begins to ask, "But how do..."

"Just do it," the captain responds, resting her chin in the palm of one hand and regarding the blonde calmly.

"But…but… Soi Fong-taichou's leader _came back_," Hinamori accuses softly, torn between anger and more tears.

The other girl quirks a brow, expression fathomless. "Then even more, should you all ready yourselves. In case _yours_ do too."

The multitude of implications suggested by that statement is not lost on any of them.

It makes for a heavier, unhappier atmosphere, but each of the three vice-captains are thinking now of what the possibility of that day may one day mean for all of them.

Soi Fong watches them all for a moment longer, before she snorts derisively to herself before disappearing from sight. "That day _will _come," are the final words she leaves them with.

And then she is gone in a gust of wind, leaving the three of them sitting there, alone and silent once again.

After a moment, Shuuhei stands and prepares to leave.

"S-senpai? Where are you going?" Kira asks, nervously.

The ninth division vice-captain pauses to take a deep breath, looking at the sky. "To train."

He leaves without looking back, and hopes that one day soon, the other two will be able to join him.

They have much to prepare for.

**END**


	247. Stolen

**247.**

**Title:** Stolen  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** Matsumoto, Hitsugaya (MatsumotoxHitsugaya-ish, but mostly playful)**  
Word Count:** 436  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but um, a sort-of-but-not-really shota-ish situation? O.o  
**Summary:** Matsumoto steals something from Toushirou.  
**Dedication:** luneetsoleil again because LOOK AT THE PRETTY LAYOUT. **  
A/N: **I will probably forever be indebted to the likes of antiparallel and luneetsoleil, but seriously, I sell my soul for icons, layouts, and fanart. I ARE A WHORE.

* * *

She laughs at him when he flushes slightly and tells her very matter-of-factly that no, he's never been kissed before, but really, what does _that_ have to do with anything in the first place?

She grins at him and simply replies that it explains _everything. _ He thinks that he resents whatever she's implying when she says that, though he's not sure what it is, exactly.

So he responds by telling her that not _everyone_ has the sort of time to go around seeking that kind of thing out, and what's the big deal anyway? It looks messy and awkward, and on top of all of that, possibly bad-tasting and slobberful.

Her eyes glint as he says that and she rests one hand on her hip, looking down at him like she knows something he doesn't know. It immediately sets him on edge, because whenever _she_ gets that look on her face it means something will inevitably happen to _him._

She bends down then, so that they're eye to eye, that insufferable expression still on her face, that hand still on her hip. "Ne, taichou," she starts, obviously highly amused by his paranoia.

"…what?" he asks, both wary and resentful of her uncalled-for smugness at the same time.

"I'm gonna steal it then, 'kay?"

He blinks, but before he can demand _what_ she wants to steal exactly, she's leaning forward and touching her lips to his.

They're there and gone again in less than a breath, just an infinitesimal touch shared between the two of them. But even still, it's enough to make his mind completely shut off.

When she pulls back, she bursts out laughing at his expression, unable to help herself when she reaches forward to pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair, exclaiming, "Ah, taichou is _so cute!_" to herself before sauntering off, hips swaying, hair flowing and eyes sparkling—all things he doesn't remember ever noticing before.

He doesn't even have the ability to muster up an indignant reply for the 'cute' crack.

And as she disappears around the corner of the corridor, he suddenly remembers to shut his gaping mouth, closing it with a snap as he feels his cheeks turning bright red.

He doesn't know whether he's more outraged or bewildered, but as he stands there alone in the division headquarters hallway, he puts one hand over his much abused mouth and furrows his brow thoughtfully.

He'll definitely get her back for that later, but for now, he thinks he's at least mature enough to admit that he might have been a little wrong.

It wasn't all that bad-tasting after all.

**END**


	248. For Your Viewing Pleasure

**248.**

**Title:** For Your Viewing Pleasure  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** KyourakuxUkitake (ish)**  
Word Count:** 522  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers, just some for the Kyouraku and Ukitake back story.  
**Summary:** Academy days fic- Kyouraku and Ukitake cut class.  
**Dedication:** another request by luneetsoleil that I just can't say no to. XD KyoxUki LURVE. 3**  
A/N: **Kyouraku is suave. But also an idiot. And that's why I love him. y

* * *

"He'll catch us!"

"Yama-jii? He's probably fallen asleep in his chair," Kyouraku replies calmly, smiling that charm-filled seducer smile of his at Ukitake as he does. Jyuushirou thinks it's an unfair use of superior weapons, and sighing in a long-suffering manner, continues to follow Shunsui anyway.

"We shouldn't be skipping class,' he adds just for adding's sake, voice low and worried as he looks over his shoulder. "What kind of example are we setting for the first-years?"

"The same example the third-years set for _us_," Shunsui responds simply. "Now Jyuu-chan, no harm done, really, right? You know the stuff we were gonna learn today backwards and forwards already, I'll bet."

Ukitake does, but that isn't the point. Well, not really. They are light years ahead of the rest of their class most of the time, but that's still no excuse to cut lessons simply because they already _know_ them.

Shunsui grins and raps him gently on the head. "Stay with me, na, Jyuu-chan? Almost there, I promise."

Jyuushirou frowns and holds the spot on the crown of his head where his friend hit, though it doesn't really hurt. "What's this great sight we absolutely _have_ to see today anyway, Shun?"

Shunsui grins at his companion and puts his index finger over the white-haired man's lips. "Shhhh, it's a surprise, remember? Don't want to ruin it, yeah?" he asks, using that smile again.

Jyuushirou's cheeks begin to turn a little pink and he feels himself nod automatically.

Kyouraku beams and reaches down to take the other student's hand. "Now c'mon. Just a bit further. You're not tired, are you?" he questions suddenly, looking concerned.

Ukitake's blush deepens ever so slightly and he shakes his head. "No…no, I'm alright."

"Good. This way."

They continue walking through the foliage, Shunsui leading them up one of seireitei's many hills, brushing aside overgrowth with one hand while holding Ukitake's in the other, eyes bright with anticipation.

A little while later they reach the top and detour into the brush itself, Kyouraku taking them to a small ledge beside a magnificent waterfall. The lake below is huge and beautiful, water so clear Jyuushirou can see to the very bottom.

The white-haired boy takes a deep breath, releasing Kyouraku's hand to clamor a bit closer to the edge. "Oh Shun, it's…"

He trails off when he sees figures gathered on one side of the lake, laughing and splashing around in the crystal waters below.

"Beautiful, right?" Shunsui finishes for him, his voice dreamy as he takes a seat on the rock ledge.

Ukitake squints to get a closer look at the group of people. "Oh my."

"I'll say. An inspiring sight, ne, Jyuu-chan? The ladies' swim club only practices like this on Tuesday afternoons, so you see why we had to skip lessons today," Kyouraku explains easily, chest puffing up as he looks down form their vantage point to the young women swimming around below.

Ukitake blinks.

And then announces, "I'm leaving."

"What? Already? Why? Jyuu-chan…oi…wait, what's the matter? Jyuu-chan!"

As he leaves, Jyuushirou thinks that maybe Shunsui is following the example the third-years set a little _too_ closely.

**END**


	249. Living Well

**249.**

**Title:** Living Well  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: ** KuukakuxYoruichi (ish)**  
Word Count:** 600  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Shiba family's past.  
**Summary:** Yoruichi visits Kuukaku  
**Dedication:** Alex- YOU WANTED YURI, now you get it (sort of). Draw me ghei. XD **  
A/N: **Damn you Vinnie, he would have drawn for me for free. :P And holy shit, more yuri? I'm gonna have to balance this out with SOMETHING. Though I suppose this isn't THAT bad…rather ambiguous really, and I'm BAD at yuri, have I mentioned that? Ah well. The biggest problem I think I have is the…SCREAMING OOC? Yes. That would be the biggest problem. My only excuse is that Kuukaku might be young, or something? O.o I don't know. This is what happens when I try to write yuri. --;;

* * *

She showed up at the Shibas' doorstep a few days after Kaien's funeral, a long time gone but somehow, still remarkably caught up on all the happenings in seireitei despite her absence.

Kuukaku had merely stared at the cat-woman who was standing there in front of her while she sat on the floor and smoked her pipe and drank her sake, unable to cry because tears never belonged in this great noble house.

Yoruichi hadn't said anything about Kaien's loss to her, had only come in like she owned the place and sat down beside her, grabbing the pipe out of Kuukaku's hand and puffing on it herself for a moment.

They didn't talk, the clank of Kuukaku's sake bottles and the heavy breaths they took as they smoked the only noise between them for the longest time.

And then, when Kuukaku couldn't take it anymore, when her vision was beginning to blur ever-so-slightly around the edges, she turned to Yoruichi and demanded, "Well? What do you want?"

Yoruichi had simply taken the sake bottle and Kuukaku's dish and poured herself a drink, toasting some invisible entity before downing the contents in one smooth tilt. "I'm here to pay my respects," she explained after she'd swallowed, placing the empty container down on the ground with a soft clunk. "And to wish Kaien-bocchama a happy rebirth."

Kuukaku bit her bottom lip when she heard her brother's name spoken out loud so easily, especially when Yoruichi said it like that, like it was that simple and Kaien was just in the process of reincarnating and not really as gone as he felt.

But Yoruichi had pushed on anyway, despite Kuukaku's discomfort, and with a voice that sounded as if it held no grief at all, the former shinigami had sighed and said, "He lived well, didn't he? Che. I remember when that little brat…"

Each and every word that followed had only served to get on Kuukaku's nerves more and more, because they were words _she_ was supposed to say but couldn't find the breath for at the moment.

"…and then the rug-rat has the nerve to come up to me and tell me he's getting married? I hadn't realized so much time had passed. Che. Well… he always did know how to live well, that brat. I suppose…"

"Would you cut that out already?" Kuukaku growled at that point, glaring at her family friend with suspicious moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Geez, ya sentimental idiot, I _know_ all this. I was _there_, remember?"

Despite the outburst, Yoruichi had smiled. "Yeah, I remember."

"And then that stupid idiot said ya had your chance but that he just couldn't marry you anymore and you hit him on the head and… and…"

Yoruichi pulled her into a hug, just as the tears started falling. Two single drops trekking down the sides of the younger woman's face and that was all.

From there Yoruichi had pet Kuukaku's hair and kissed those tears from her cheeks, her smile never disappearing as she cupped the young Shiba's face and looked into her eyes, saying, "He knew how to live well, didn't he?"

Kuukaku had managed a little laugh at that, a short bark that sounded half-relieved and half-genuine, and touching her forehead to Yoruichi's for a moment, asked, "So, you stayin' tonight?"

Yoruichi used the palm of her hand to properly dry Kuukaku's face. "Of course."

The corners of her lip quirking upward at that, Kuukaku muttered somewhat ironically, "Live well, right?"

Yoruichi, breathing deeply, leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Something like that."

**END**


	250. Choices, Choices

**250.**

**Title:** Choices, Choices  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, Shuuhei+Kira, Ikkaku+Kira, Iba+Kira, Renji+Kira, implied GinxKira. **  
Word Count:** 965  
**Warning/s: **Post Soul-Society Arc spoilers.  
**Summary:** Sort-of companion piece to #238 (Thug Love)- Yumichika intercedes.  
**Dedication:** luneetsoleil- here is your Kira is the ultimate UKE fic. Sort of. ;; Also to antiparallel because EVERYONE LOVES KIRA (abuse). **  
A/N: **I WILL NEVER STOP BEING MEAN TO KIRA, WILL I? On an even stupider note, this totally started going in one direction before veering around and going in the opposite while getting high on crack at the same time. Oh well.

* * *

Yumichika, fed-up with watching everyone pussyfoot around poor Kira Izuru like he was going to break if they tried anything unexpected, took matters into his own hands one day when he decided to crash the group's weekly boys' night outing, showing up unexpectedly a few moments after Shuuhei. 

Everyone was surprised.

"Yumi…ah…what're you…"

"Stealing Kira-san for a moment!" Yumi declared brightly, smiling a million-watts at everyone and grabbing Izuru by the arm before anyone could properly react.

"Oi…Yumi, maybe that ain't such a good idea," Ikkaku had started, nervously eyeing a bewildered looking Kira and a determined looking Yumichika. "Er… sure you can join in tonight if ya want but uh…"

"Yeah, yeah, you can join. Just um…maybe ya shouldn't be so rough with Kira, yeah?" Renji finished for Ikkaku

"Oh nonsense, he's a man, isn't he?" Yumichika challenged, looking around archly.

When no one said anything, he took it as acquiescence, and smiling, flounced off with Kira in tow.

Iba, Ikkaku, and Renji all looked at Shuuhei accusingly.

"It's not my fault!" Shuuhei insisted, telling them that he hadn't known Yumi was going to crash their outing tonight.

Meanwhile, at another table in the mahjong parlor, Kira looked around nervously, wondering what senpai's lover possibly had to say to him.

"Na, Kira, you really need to speak up for yourself, I think," Yumi started conversationally, though the subject matter wasn't conversational at all. "Those four idiots over there obviously don't think you can take care of yourself, eh?"

Kira blinked. "Eh?"

Yumi looked at him appraisingly. "I know why, of course. It's because you're very cute when you look like that!" he exclaimed, looking self-satisfied at his brilliant deduction.

The blonde just blinked some more.

Yumi sighed and leaned forward. "Shuuhei always comes home and says he's worried about you," the dark-haired shinigami murmured, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "I always ask him if he's in love with you after he says that, and of course he says no, but _I_ know better…"

"Ah, senpai and I aren't like that!" Kira interjected quickly on Shuuhei's behalf, not wanting to cause the other vice-captain any trouble with his lover.

Yumichika waved a hand dismissively. "Oh I know that. But I also know that if he had to make a second choice, he loves you second best."

Kira blushed. "Er…well… I won't… we don't…"

Yumichika shook his head at Izuru's pink-faced fidgeting. "It's because Kira-kun is so cute… I mean… look at you!" he declared, indicating the shy bent of the blonde's lips and the sad, but hopeful turn of his eyes. "It's not your fault, I know what having such natural beauty means myself, after all. I can't very well blame you for almost being as blessed as me, ne?"

"Er… of course not."

"But enough about Shuuhei, because you can't have him," Yumi continued simply. "What I want to know is…which of the _other_ three idiots are you going to choose? I mean, you know none of _them_ are going to step up and be _men _about it, given how timid they are with you and your messy break-up from before, so you'll just have to be the one to make the first move, ne?"

"Eh!" Kira wasn't quite sure he was keeping up properly with Ayasekawa's rapid-fire talking. He could have possibly heard what he just thought he heard.

Yumi on the other hand, simply looked vaguely scandalized at the blonde's surprise. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed…"

The dumb look Izuru shot back at him had him shaking his head again.

He indicated the four idiots standing in the background, all of them trying to look like they were drinking and not staring and wondering what the hell Yumi was talking to Kira about. "Iba…Renji… Ikkaku… you mean, you haven't even had the _slightest_ inkling?" the fifth-chair asked again, just to be safe.

Kira shook his head, looking embarrassed.

The eleventh division death god paused. Looked thoughtful. And then squealed. "How exciting!"

Kira definitely knew he wasn't keeping up now. "Eh?"

Looking like he'd just won some sort of lottery, Yumi took Kira's hand into his own and with his most earnest expression, promised that he would help Izuru find the best match out of the three suitors as humanly possible.

Kira looked like he was trapped in a particularly strong pair of headlights.

"Now… Iba is uncouth but actually quite thoughtful, from what I know of him," Yumi began excitedly. "He's rather chivalrous really, if a bit slow, but then again, I suppose the lot of them are a bit…well… you know." He threw Kira what must have been a conspirational look.

"Um?"

"Right. On the other hand, Renji is absolutely gorgeous, and he obviously adores you, though _his_ biggest problem might be the fact that he isn't the type who can easily admit that sort of thing, yes? But if anything, the two of you would _look_ good together, and that's half the battle in itself, don't you think?"

Kira swallowed shakily. "Uh?"

"Though personally, I think Ikkaku is definitely your best match, and not because I know him best, but because he's always "Gin-bastard this, and I'll kill him-that, and when I ask _him_ whether he's in love with you he gets pink and blustery, not anything like Shuuhei, who just sputters and glares and gets indignant…"

Kira's head hurt. "So…um…Ayasekawa-san thinks I should… date Ikkaku?" he posed, tentatively.

Yumi smiled luminously. "Well… yes and no. I think you should try all the flavors before picking a favorite! Why rush, right?" he declared without any shame or hesitation.

Kira's cheeks flared. "W-what?"

And then Yumichika was standing again, abruptly pulling Kira up with him. "C'mon, let's go pick out the first one together, ne?"

"_Eh_?"

**END**


	251. Fine Lines

**251.**

**Title:** Fine Lines  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Urahara, Aizen**  
Word Count:** 673  
**Warning/s: **Implied spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Urahara and Aizen are very different students.  
**Dedication:** Beck- Dude has it been forever since I wrote Urahara or what? --;;**  
A/N: **I don't know if I like this, but it's out of my system now and I can only move on from here. Right? Yes. I need to stop doing these stupid compare/contrast pieces between Aizen and Urahara.

* * *

Urahara likes to play pranks on his friends, devising rather ingenious methods of getting them entangled in the worst possible situations without hurting them and then bearing their reprimands with smiles and laughter because he is always forgiven. Eventually.

Aizen doesn't play pranks at all, doesn't get into any mischief and is only kind and considerate to his friends and peers, his smiles serene while Kisuke's are wicked, his eyes gentle while Kisuke's are openly cunning. He never needs to be forgiven because he never does anything untoward to anyone.

Urahara likes credit where credit is due, and when he feels he receives an unfair amount of recognition for his class accomplishments he infuriates the teachers with his ambiguous words, talking them in circles around themselves and flustering them for the mere purpose of illustrating that he is far more brilliant than they are and that their opinions on his achievements have no real bearing on the weight of their _true_ grandeur. He doesn't believe that geniuses should bow to idiots. Ever.

Sousuke bows humbly and accepts their teaching with calm humility. He takes their praise and takes their criticism all in the same way because he values what he learns from them even if he knows they are not his equals. He believes that there are some things wise men can learn from fools. No matter how idiotic they may be.

When someone makes a suggestion to Kisuke that he doesn't like, he thinks for a moment before very cheerfully tearing the idea into pieces from every angle imaginable, smiling the entire time he destroys inferior thoughts and somehow, making it impossible for the one being torn apart to hate him. On a long-term basis, anyway.

When someone makes a suggestion that Aizen does not feel is the best course of action, he will look solemn and consider it from every angle, will wonder if he can't improve it or somehow, make the person has who suggested it change their mind by subtly-placed hints in his reactions and words. He is always very gentle, and even when Sousuke doesn't take the other students' advice, he never once hurts their feelings about it. They are disappointed, but never angry at him.

Kisuke takes tests in haphazard ways, writing his brainstorming and his formulas all over the paper and sometimes the table, the notes indecipherable to anyone but him. He always gets 100.

Aizen is very precise in every character he writes, progression from point A to point B visible in both his explanations and the formulaic way in which he writes them on the paper, using lines that show every step he took to get to from his problem to his current deduction. He always gets 100.

Urahara has very few close friends though he can smile and laugh with anyone. There are only three or four people in the world he is willing to confide everything in and anyone else is simply stuck being _there. _Most usually for his amusement.

Aizen is well-liked by everyone and treats everyone as his close friend. He is immensely popular in all of his classes and his peers all look up to him as a leader. They are willing to follow him because he gratefully acknowledges that they are there and most of all, seems glad for their presence.

Kisuke likes people, but is distrustful of them.

Aizen likes people and doesn't mind being bothered by them.

In some respects, they are very similar. In others, the two are as different as night and day.

When asked why he is so reserved all of the time, Aizen always smiles politely and bows his head, saying, "Because I am always conscious of the future I want my actions to build for me." The teachers love that answer.

When they demand to know why Urahara insists on being such an upstart, he grins unabashedly at them from under his unruly bangs and gives them the answer they absolutely hate most, saying, "Because I don't have anything to hide."

**END**


	252. Piece of Work

**252.**

**Title:** Piece of Work  
**Rating:** PG-13 for some gore?  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Gin, Aizen, Tousen  
**Word Count:** 189  
**Warning/s: **Arrancar arc spoilers.  
**Summary:** Gin paints a picture.   
**Dedication:** Antiparallel- YAY GIN. **  
A/N: **I felt like creepy? I dunno. --;;

* * *

The first partial mask he was able to grow was lovingly kept and used as a canvass to paint flowers and bunnies on.

Tousen scowled at him and said it was degrading to deface the symbol of their hard training just like that, but Gin decided that the flowers and the bunnies were _pretty_ and Kana-chan just couldn't see that. Literally.

When he went to take it to Aizen for a second opinion, one of the Arrancar roared from the wings that such trivial matters should not be used to waste Aizen-sama's time.

So Gin smashed its face in with his palm and pushed until he could feel brains and other wonderfully slimy things.

He used the red on his fingers to paint a heart on his mask.

Then he continued up to Aizen's fancy chair and showed his captain what he thought was a very pretty piece of work.

Aizen smiled gently and told his favorite vice-captain that he felt it was absolutely idyllic.

Satisfied, Gin turned around and strolled out of the throne room.

When he found Tousen again, he smiled and said, "I told you so."

**END**


	253. The Dating Game

**253.**

**Title:** The Dating Game  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, IkkakuxKira, Iba+Kira, Renji+Kira, slight ByakuyaxRenji  
**Word Count:** 979  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the Soul Society Arc?  
**Summary:** Sequel of sorts to drabble #250 (Choices, Choices)- Kira takes Yumi's advice.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel, randompantat, and swinku for the Great Kira art! **  
A/N: **Wow I have been getting a TON of Kira fanart. XD I like how everyone likes me bullying him so much. I feel the love! I honestly was thinking about making this a different pairing than I did, but art inspires. thumbs up to swinku XD

* * *

Several fateful days ago, Yumichika had turned Kira's life upside down.

Ayasekawa had stormed one of their outings, seized Kira by the hand, and marched him over to his friends, stating very matter-of-factly that it was time to stop being chicken and get down to business.

All of them had hemmed and hawed—save for Shuuhei, who looked simultaneously horrified and amused—citing that they had no idea what Yumichika was talking about.

Ayasekawa had sniffed and stated, "Very well then. This is perfect because Shuu and I were looking for someone for a beautiful threesome anyway."

This time everyone's jaws had dropped, including Shuuhei—though Yumi suspected in anticipation rather than shock—and after a few seconds, Iba, Ikkaku, and Renji were citing objections and blustering and disapproving perfectly.

Yumi clapped his hands in delight and turned to Kira to say, "See? They all really love you."

They'd all gaped again—Shuuhei possibly out of discovering that the threesome proposal had fallen through—and went silent.

Kira blushed.

And then like magic, so did they.

Yumi, growing impatient, gave up on getting anything admitted and simply pointed in order, "Iba-kun… Friday. Renji-kun…Saturday. Ikkaku- Sunday."

Then he'd grabbed Kira's hand and flounced off with him again, chattering about how Izuru was going to have so much _fun _this weekend. And possibly sex.

Faces aflame, Iba, Ikkaku and Renji all looked at Shuuhei accusatorily.

Shuuhei shrugged and suggested that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if some of them got laid sometime soon.

The first date with Iba was quiet and Kira felt like the other man was watching and trying to anticipate his every move so that he could be prepared for it, so that he could take care of whatever Kira might need at any one particular moment and not disappoint him by reacting too slowly.

They ate dinner and Iba apologized profusely when he found out that Kira is allergic to certain types of shellfish.

Iba walked him back to his door like a perfect gentleman and they stared at each other awkwardly for a moment before Iba sighed and chucked the blonde's chin. "I'll see you next week."

He left without another word.

Kira wondered what he might've done wrong.

The second date with Renji was a picnic in one of the spots they'd spent a lot of time in back during their academy days. Renji was very considerate but seemed particularly focused on talking about how he'd almost had to cancel because his captain had told him that he would like the redhead to stay late as they were behind in paperwork. Renji grumbled and growled about Kuchiki Byakuya and wasn't quite able to hide the admiration in his voice as he did. Izuru thought that it really wouldn't be very bad if Renji decided he was more in love with Kuchiki than him, because the way Abarai's eyes lit on fire when he spoke of Byakuya was almost inspiring.

Renji walked him back too, and smiled before they parted ways, leaning forward and kissing Izuru softly on the cheek before murmuring that he had to get back to headquarters to work with his taichou on that paperwork.

Kira told him not to keep his captain waiting and thanked him for dinner.

The third date with Ikkaku was greasy vendor food in Rukongai and a walk through the lively, crowded streets. Ikkaku liked the atmosphere because it reminded him of the old days before the academy. Winking, he told Kira he'd show him all his favorite spots from when he was a kid.

First, there was a pond full of tadpoles to see. Ikkaku tried to catch some with his bare hands and Kira laughed when he overstepped and fell face-first into the water.

Then there was a gigantic tree that they climbed to the very top of. From there they could see the white gates of the court, huge and majestic. Ikkaku said it was where he'd go when he was young and dreaming of becoming a shinigami.

Then there was a fishing hole where Ikkaku caught a rusted tea-kettle after thirty minutes of struggle and a hidden cave that had some of the prettiest crystals Kira had ever seen.

At the end of the evening Ikkaku walked him home and stood by his door looking like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure what it was.

Neither of them expected it when Kira leaned forward first, brushing a soft kiss onto his friend's lips and thanking him for a really nice date.

Ikkaku turned red and muttered, "um…n-no problem. I'll… see you tomorrow then?"

Kira nodded. "Un." Then he went inside, letting himself feel proud for having given his first kiss ever. In all the times before, they'd been taken from him.

The next day when everyone gathered for lunch in the commons, Yumichika wouldn't let anyone eat before he found out exactly what had happened and with whom.

Kira shyly told him his stories and after twenty minutes of listening, the fifth chair nodded solemnly and said, "Ikkaku it is."

Iba and Renji smacked the baldie and told him like good sports, that he better be nice to Kira.

Ikkaku smacked them back and said that he always was.

Yumi, fluttering into Shuuhei's lap like he owned the place—everyone supposed he did—stated that was glad everything went well this weekend though he was sorely disappointed that he and Shuuhei were still the only ones here who'd had any sex.

Shuuhei suggested that they let Kira in on that after all.

Yumi thought about it for a moment, and then very plainly stated that it didn't look like Shuuhei was going to get any himself for a while now too.

Kira thought that they were cute and hoped that one day he could make Ikkaku cry like Yumichika made Shuuhei.

**END**


	254. Limitless

**254.**

**Title:** Limitless   
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Urahara, Isshin  
**Word Count:** 602  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the post- Soul Society arc  
**Summary:** Kisuke is always pursuing perfection.  
**Dedication:** koyami- okay, this didn't turn out as happy-cracky as I wanted it to, but I hope you like it anyway. Thanks again for the Urahara art! **  
A/N: **More serious than I'd intended, I suppose, but such is the way these things go. I don't even quite know if this one makes sense, if you really asked me. --;;

* * *

"Just call me kami-sama," Kisuke jokes as he puts the finishing touches on the gigai he is building, looking up at Yoruichi with that easy-going air of his that comforts her about as equally as it disturbs her. 

"Kisuke, you know the rules. It has to be at least 8 different," she warns him.

He frowns at her recital of seireitei policy and looks down at the body he is just created.

He doesn't like that the laws say that gigai's made in Soul Society have to be at least 8 inferior to normal human bodies. He doesn't like the fact that the higher ups are afraid of what making a gigai with 100 likeness would mean.

They say that they are not the supreme god or beings who created all of creation. They are merely guardians between the worlds. They tell him it is not their place to attempt to make perfect facsimiles of life because it is not their realm. They are not god.

Kisuke is a perfectionist at heart, and the 8 grates on him every time because he knows that he can get it down to .0001 if allowed to continue his research on the matter.

Yoruichi tells him that there's really no point in building a perfect gigai in the first place because for one, it's impossible, and for another, no shinigami in his right mind would want to keep it anyway.

Kisuke smiles at her, agreeing completely to most of that, but continues to work and see if he can't make that .0001 a .00001 or even better… zero.

He has no illusions of wanting to become god in his goal of perfection; he simply wants it because he knows that if anyone can do it, he can. It might be selfish to want to do something so seemingly sinister for the purpose of bolstering his own sense of pride, but he thinks that Yoruichi is right anyway. Not about it being impossible of course, but rather, that no shinigami in his right mind would want such a thing.

He supposes it's just in his nature to pursue perfection. Even seemingly useless ones.

So the day when he accomplishes his goal, he smiles and destroys the body he created shortly thereafter, thinking that as long as _he_ knows it's possible that's all that really matters.

He's not trying to play god. He's not doing it for any other reason than to satisfy his own curiosity. And it's not as if his accomplishment will somehow make a change in the pages of Soul Society's rather boring and uniform history.

Plus, no shinigami in his right mind would want a perfect human body in the first place.

God and such things aside, he'd really just wanted to see if he could make the world's coolest gigai. And now he has.

However, he thinks that perhaps the real god-of-gods is trying to tell him something when, just days after his first perfect specimen was created and destroyed, Isshin shows up at his door for a rare visit.

The other death god has a favor to ask him.

And shortly thereafter, Kisuke gets to work again, thinking to himself that Isshin is a shinigami who has never really been in his right mind in the first place.

But he supposes it's a favor he can do for his old friend just this once, because really.

It's not like making one of these gigai is something so big that it'll change the entire future of seireitei or anything earth-shattering like that.

It's just a wedding gift for a friend, after all.

**END**


	255. Borne of Necessity

**255.**

**Title:** Borne of Necessity  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Renji  
**Word Count:** 565  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 204  
**Summary:** Ikkaku doesn't think Renji's bankai is that big a deal.  
**Dedication:** Everyone who had the same GEEZUSOMGDUDEWHAT reaction that I did. **  
A/N: **My attempt to explain what the hell is going on in 204 all of a sudden. OOCness abounds, but whatever, I just needed to write SOMETHING for it. Cuz OMG.

* * *

Ikkaku Madarame sighed and rolled his eyes as Renji talked about what a rush bankai was, how the difference in power and connection to his zanpakutou was remarkably stronger, as if he wasn't sure where he began and where Zabimaru ended.

"Yeah, yeah…great stuff, you'n your division, so strong now, blah, blah," Madarame drawled uninterestedly as he munched on beer nuts and waited for the barkeep to get him a refill.

Renji frowned at the tone. "Well, ya don't gotta sound so bored with it just 'cuz you'n your division don't understand it," he sniffed.

Ikkaku was glad to know that his friend's sudden level-up in ability didn't necessarily translate into greater emotional maturity.

If it wasn't supposed to be a goddamned secret, Ikkaku would burst the idiot's bubble and tell him that _he_ had one too. And it probably wasn't as fruity as Renji's either (what, with all the fur and stuff).

But he was going to take the moral high ground here. He wasn't going to…

"I'm tellin' ya Ikkaku, you just don't understand, man. But maybe ya know, I could show ya how to do it. I think I remember what Yoruichi-san was talkin' about…gotta find one of those white dummies or somethin', but that can't be too hard, yeah?"

Ikkaku groaned internally as Renji took on something akin to a "Let the strong protect the weak" sort of attitude that got assholes killed for stupid reasons.

Gritting his teeth, Madarame wasn't quite able to stop himself when he said, "Look Renji, I 'ppreciate it, really I do. But don't ya think you better learn how to use _yours _for real first? I mean… I read the reports. Just 'cuz ya gotta new toy don't mean you know how to play yet."

Renji looked wounded again. "Oi… I was fightin' _taichou_. He's got _years_ on me for the whole bankai thing. I think I did pretty damn good for my first time, bastard. Che. And what about you? You shouldn't be goin' around sayin' stuff like bankai's your everyday sorta thing, ya know? Stop talkin' bout it like you know everything. Che. Piss me off."

Ikkaku sighed. "Whatever."

He was too tired to argue with Renji about the fact that he knew _exactly_ what he was talking about.

Because several years ago, Ikkaku had realized that Zaraki didn't have bankai.

Shortly thereafter, he'd deducted that Yachiru most definitely didn't have it either.

So the natural thing to think after that was that _somebody_ in the eleventh oughta get it, given that all the _other _divisions at least had one bastard that could do the stupid thing.

It had taken some time or whatever, but really, Ikkaku didn't think it was _that_ big a deal after he did get it.

Renji, obviously, had been listening to that stuffed-shirt Kuchiki and his "bankai is for nobles, stay away peasant scum" spiel for a few years too many now.

"And you don't know how damn _hard _it was to get the stupid thing down in _three days _in the first place," Renji added, still sounding hurt as he dug around to regain that slippery superiority foothold of his somewhere on the rocky cliff he was climbing.

"And I'm _still_ sore from it and it ain't just somethin' you can practice whenever the hell ya want to, okay, asshole?"

Ikkaku banged his head on the table.

**END**


	256. Ninja Philosophy

**256.**

**Title:** Ninja Philosophy  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru  
**Word Count:** 610  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Kenpachi/Ichigo fight in the SS arc?  
**Summary:** Kenpachi hates pansy ninjas.  
**Dedication:** Ivan- for his Holiday gift-fic request.**  
A/N: **Alright, so Ivan's request was a mid-SS arc fic with Kenpachi and Yachiru regarding the manga Kenpachi reads. I think I sort of fulfilled it? Mostly? I dunno. O.o

* * *

"This way next! Definitely this way, Ken-chan!"

He eyes her and thinks that she's probably wrong again, but sitting on his shoulder looking so certain, he supposes her next guess is as good as any of his might be.

When it turns out to be the third dead-end in a row (the odds for that are TERRIBLE by the way), Kenpachi sighs and decides it's time to just run the tops of the walls. At least that way, when she tells him to turn the wrong way he'll have a real argument against her. Theoretically.

"Wah, it's just like ninjas!" She exclaims as they land at the top of the scaffolding and break into a run.

Kenpachi scowls. "Wouldja quit it with the ninjas already? I shouldn'ta let you read that. Now concentrate, I mean it. We're tryin' to find the ryoka, remember?"

She pouts at him and hits him on the shoulder with the flat of her palm, halfway between a hit and a pat. "Ken-chan, are you still mad at Naruto?"

His eye narrows at that. "Che. No."

She looks at him.

"Just don't agree with it, 's all," he admits on that look. "Ya don't need anyone _else_ ta make you stronger, far as I'm concerned. 's just an excuse 'cuz they're all big crybabies, ya ask me."

He pauses. "And don't you ever turn out like them, ya hear?" he adds, just because he feels he needs to.

She smiles confidently at him. "I'm already strong!"

He sighs. "Yeah, okay."

"Na, left, Ken-chan! Left!"

"Er… Yachiru, that leads right into that wall over there, see?"

"I'm sure it's left!"

He sighs. "Yeah, okay." Turns left.

Many hours later when Zaraki Kenpachi awakens in the fourth division infirmary with Yachiru sitting on the now-bandaged gaping wound in his chest, he blinks and groans and wonders why the hell he's still alive.

"Yay, Ken-chan is awake!" she breathes, clapping. "Didja have a good nap?"

He blinks some more. "Oi… didn't I lose?"

She pouts at him. "Of course not! Ken-chan tied! Definitely tied! It was two against one!" she insists, looking very serious for someone who's sitting on a guy-who's-supposed-to-be-dead's injured chest.

"But I…"

"You didn't lose!"

Her knee digs into his wound and his eye jostles open a little wider at that, forcing him to look at just how adamant she is about the whole thing.

He sighs and after a moment, relaxes back into his pillow. "Yeah. Okay. A tie."

She nods. "Yup."

A little while later, after he's convinced her that it would have totally been his victory if Ichigo hadn't called out Zangetsu and she's content enough with his words regarding that to fall asleep on his stomach, he frowns and watches her as she slumbers, absolute in her belief that he's the strongest guy in the universe.

Well…good.

She should.

He sighs and thinks that maybe he should follow his vice-captain's prodding and pick up Naruto again. One of these days.

Because… maybe he stopped a little too early into the story after all.

Maybe.

He decides he'll give it another shot. See if those wimpy ninjas got any stronger since he last read.

"Che. Stronger for someone else's sake. What a load of bull."

Yachiru, curled up like a cat on his belly, jabs her elbow into his ribs in her sleep.

He grunts and closes his eye. "Yeah. Okay."

He falls asleep soon after, thinking about pansy, emo ninjas and what it means to be strong.

Though his last, rebellious thoughts as he drifts off are that One Piece could really kick the shit out of Naruto if it wanted to.

**END**


	257. Sea Breeze

**257.**

**Title:** Sea Breeze  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchixRuki (ish)  
**Word Count:** 527  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of. Just some OOC?  
**Summary:** Rukia's never seen the ocean. Well, not really.  
**Dedication:** Jen- She requested IchixRuki at the beach. **  
A/N: **So the theme is beach and seashells for this gift fic. --;; Hope I got it alright?

* * *

When she tells him she's never seen the ocean, he frowns at her and says, "Yeah you have."

She scowls and tells him she's never seen the _real_ ocean, and that picture from their textbook today doesn't count because it was an artificially reproduced facsimile of the real thing.

He rolls his eyes and tells her the picture probably looks _better_ than the real thing. She finds herself a little disappointed when he seems to want to leave it at that.

It isn't until several days later that he thrusts a strange, spiraling, calcified monstrosity at her and mutters at her to put it to her ear.

She frowns at him and turns it around in her hands, because she's never seen something quite so strange and—not exactly wonderful but-- fascinating.

"What is it?"

He scowls. "It's a seashell. You saw one of _these_ too, remember?" he asks, looking embarrassed.

She turns it around some more. "But the one in the book was so…flat. You can't honestly expect me to automatically know they're the same thing."

Flustered, he shoves his hands into his pockets and looks away from her. "Just… put it to your ear, would you?"

She looks at him suspiciously for a moment before mentally shrugging and doing as she's told.

After a moment, she pulls back, eyes widening slightly and looking at the shell in her hands with two parts wonderment and one part bewilderment. "What is that?"

"Er…the ocean. Sort of," he offers, giving her that "you really don't know anything, do you?" look of his and trying to find words that will explain this strange phenomenon to her. "The custom is, you put one of those to your ear and you listen and you can hear the ocean."

She blinks. "Really?"

He shrugs one shoulder noncommittally. "Yeah, pretty much."

She puts the giant shell to her ear again. Laughs in a sort of fascinated delight. "That's what it sounds like?"

"Yeah. A little louder though. I think. It's been a while you know, since I've been there." The last time was with his mother and everyone when he was little. They found that shell together, but he supposes she doesn't need to know that.

She eyes him when he grows silent. "Is the ocean very far away?"

He clears his throat. "A little. We could go, if you wanted. Next break we get off. It's a ways away, but the train'll take us. I just…" he gestures with his chin to the conch, "I thought you'd like to try that for now. You know, since we can't go right away."

She smiles and holds the shell back up to her ear. "Can I keep this until we go?"

He blinks, because he thinks it's a weird request, but she looks so absolutely thrilled with the shell pressed up against the side of her face that he supposes there's no harm done.

Watching her get this excited about something so simple, he can't help but wonder what her reaction will be when he takes her to see the real thing.

He catches her eyes and discovers that he looks forward to it.

**END**


	258. Don't Fear the Dark

**258.**

**Title:** Don't Fear the Dark  
**Rating:** PG-13 for innuendo  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ChadxIshida  
**Word Count:** 288  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but weird vagueness in regards to a possibly kinky thing on my part?  
**Summary:** Chad wants to leave the lights on.  
**Dedication:** Christine's request fic.**  
A/N: **So Christine requested ChadxIshida and Zombies? Riiiiight. Let's see how the heck I pull _this_ one off. O.o Does this even make sense? Probably not.

* * *

Ishida tries to hide his incredulity when Chad asks if they can keep the lights on tonight, and after a moment of the two of them looking at each other in silence from across the room, the Quincy finds himself adjusting his glasses and sitting on the bed as he says, very plainly, "I told you it wasn't a good idea to play that video game with Kurosaki."

Chad doesn't react very much towards most things, but once you know what to look for he is very easy to read, and Ishida sees a telltale drop of sweat that makes its way down one side of Yasutora's face a moment later.

"He…didn't want to play alone?" the taller boy remarks after a moment of heavy quiet.

Ishida sighs. "Honestly, Sado, we're too old to be afraid of zombies by now, don't you think?" he begins reasonably, thinking that maybe downplaying the whole thing will ease his companion into bed quicker than a lengthy explanation as to why someone of Sado's height, build, and--most importantly-- _abilities_ should have nothing to fear from the stumbling, moaning undead.

Chad blinks. "Zombies?"

Ishida blinks back. "Wasn't that why you wanted to leave the lights on?"

Chad doesn't react very much to most things, but once you know what to look for it turns out he's rather easy to read.

So when his cheeks turn very slightly pink under that tan complexion, Ishida feels an answering blush blossom on his own face as realization slowly but surely dawns in the Quincy.

His throat works, and after a moment of searching, he manages a small, "Oh."

Well. _That's_ new.

"I… well. I um… suppose we could leave them on this time."

Chad smiles.

**END**


	259. Body and Soul

**259.**

**Title:** Body and Soul  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, Ikkaku  
**Word Count:** 832  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for ch 195  
**Summary:** Who is that beautiful woman waiting for Yumichika?  
**Dedication:** Jen- she gave me options on her request post, and thus, I did them both. --;;**  
A/N: **The request was ShuuxYumi with real world or gigai as the theme. I had some fun. XD

* * *

Even though he's made fast friends with many of the girls in their class, none of the boys feel particularly threatened by Ayasekawa-san. 

There is just something about him that makes them think that they have no reason to fear for their women.

They're actually mostly, more afraid for themselves in that respect.

So one day, when there is a tall, impossibly gorgeous dark-haired woman waiting outside the gate and asking passing students if they could fetch Ayasekawa for her, everyone thinks it has to be his big sister. Or a cousin, or something.

Ikkaku however, knows better, because he's the one standing beside Yumichika when they simultaneously feel a ping of familiar reiatsu. Yumi lets out a squeal of surprised delight and is gone from the bald death god's sight in the flash of an eye, and muttering to himself that this can't go well if he knows those two idiots like he thinks he does, Madarame ambles over to a window overlooking the yard and prepares to watch the show.

A few moments later and there's a small crowd gathered around him, curious students who saw and heard of the gorgeous older woman waiting outside and had to have their suspicions confirmed.

"Na, Ikkaku-san… is that Ayasekawa-san's older sister?" one girl poses shyly, peeping over the window sill as they watch Yumichika jog across the yard, waving happily at his visitor.

Ikkaku rolls his eyes because Yumi probably KNOWS the entire school is watching. What an attention whore. "Nope, ain't his sister," he answers after a moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It's a bit of an odd sight, but the entire class watches in wide-eyed disbelief as Yumichika launches himself into the woman's arms and proceeds to kiss her rather…enthusiastically.

Ikkaku snorts and thinks that everyone's going to want an explanation from _him_ now. He sneaks off while they're still gaping.

Meanwhile, down beside the front gate, Yumi laughs breathlessly and touches his forehead to Shuuhei's. "I didn't expect you!" he exclaims, tracing his lover's cheek with one hand.

Shuuhei grins back, because even though they've been apart for a while now, the familiarity of this will never change. He hopes it won't. Won't let it, if he can help it.

"Yeah well… no one was expecting _anyone_, apparently," he grumbles, unconsciously pressing into the touch of Ayasekawa's hand on his face.

Yumi chuckles knowingly. "Last gigai?"

"Very last. Figures a pervert like Urahara would keep a female form as his only spare," the ninth division shinigami mutters, cheeks turning slightly pink.

"Well, for the record… my entire school thinks you are absolutely gorgeous," Yumi teases, leaning in for another kiss. "They're incredibly jealous of me."

Shuuhei looks torn between amusement and horror. "Yeah well…" whatever he's about to say is cut off when the other death god captures his lips, and Shuuhei supposes he might as well go with it since can't speak very well with another tongue in his mouth anyway.

When they pull apart, they're both breathless and tense in just the right ways, Shuuhei closing his eyes luxuriously and leaning forward to kiss behind Yumichika's ear.

"How long are you staying?" Yumi murmurs, arms tightening around the back of his lover's neck.

"Took some of my vacation time, so a few days," Shuuhei responds. "You be in trouble if you skip some class?"

Yumi sighs delightedly. "Nope."

The other death god grins. "Sweet."

Taking his lover's hand, Shuuhei begins tugging him off of school grounds.

Bemused, Yumi allows himself to be led, not able to help it when he cracks, "Well. This should be interesting."

Shuuhei rolls his eyes. "Easy there, pervert. This is only a rental, you know."

Yumichika's eyebrows jump slightly. "That so?"

"Well it's not like appropriations is gonna pay for what I do on my vacation. And Urahara's not gonna give me my deposit back for used goods, I don't think." Shuuhei digs into one of his pockets with his free hand and tosses Yumichika a familiar looking Soul Candy dispenser. "I came prepared."

Yumichika catches it and can't help but feel a little bit relieved.

Eyeing Shuuhei's current, voluptuous form, he can't help but think that in all honestly, he wouldn't have known where to start on_ that_.

However, when he returns to school a few days later, the rest of his classmates don't believe that to be the case.

Yumichika is greeted as a hero to the boys and a heartthrob to the girls when he arrives to homeroom the following Monday morning. He receives hearty pats on the back from the male students as they laugh and apologize for ever doubting him, and does that older neesan have a cute sister or roommate, maybe?

Yumi revels in the attention and makes no move to say anything, yay or nay, as to the beautiful woman's identity.

In the meantime, Ikkaku, Renji, Matsumoto, and Hitsugaya can only hope that Shuuhei will better prepare for his next off-duty visit.

**END**


	260. A Gift For You

**260.**

**Title:** A Gift For You  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IsshinxRyuuken  
**Word Count:** 462  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers that I can think of. You know, besides who Ryuuken IS.   
**Summary:** Isshin buys Ryuuken a present.  
**Dedication:** laliho- because she won't make requests and I have to GUESS. :P **  
A/N: **I love my laliho. Yes I do.

* * *

"Ryuuuuuu-chin! I have a present for you!"

Ryuuken's eye ticks reflexively and he waits for the inevitable, "…in my pants!" to finish off the exclamation, but when it doesn't come, he blinks and turns to Isshin, wondering vaguely if he is dreaming.

Isshin grins and takes his hands out from behind his back, presenting Ryuuken with what is indeed, a gift. That is not from inside his pants.

"Merry Christmas!" Isshin proclaims, looking eager as he holds out a thin, rather sloppily wrapped rectangular box.

Ryuuken looks at it suspiciously for a moment, but is forced to take the present when Isshin starts thrusting it a little more insistently at him on reflex a few seconds later, because he has the patience of a toddler.

The Quincy sets the object in his lap and adjusts his glasses before turning back to the other physician. "Isshin," he begins very slowly, "Christmas is in December. You're at least a month off. And we don't even celebrate Christmas."

"I know, I know! But I saw it and I bought it and I couldn't wait to give it to you," Isshin insists, feet working up and down like an excited child. Or someone about to wet his pants.

Ryuuken sighs. "But we don't…"

"Open it, open it!"

"It's not even…"

"Openitopenitopenitopenitopenitopenitopenit…"

Ryuuken's eye twitches again but he finds himself sighing and reaching for the bow anyway, if only to save his sanity and to keep from possibly committing a homicide in the next few seconds.

The paper practically falls off of the box then, like the ribbon was the only thing holding it together—it probably was—and Ryuuken finds himself with a plain white box.

He can only imagine what _Isshin_ would have considered the perfect gift, and with a defeated little sigh, he removes the lid.

A shiny silver nameplate greets him then, sitting on a bed of cotton with the light catching it and illuminating the fancy engraving.

Ryuuken stares.

"Well?" Isshin probes, leaning over the other man's shoulder in eager anticipation. "Well? Well?"

Ryuuken pinches the bridge of his nose and reaches reflexively for the top right drawer of his desk, where he keeps his headache medicine.

Isshin grins and snatches the gift off of his lap. "I'll go put it on your door!" he exclaims happily, bouncing out of the office.

As Ryuuken takes two pills with a big gulp of water, he can hear Isshin scraping around outside, trying to figure out how to get the "Ishida Ryuuken, MD" plate off of the holder and replace it with the shiny new one he bought.

The one that reads "Kurosaki Ryuuken, MD 3."

Ryuuken sighs to himself and sort of wishes that the present _had_ been from Isshin's pants after all.

**END **


	261. Parting Gift

**261.**

**Title:** Parting Gift  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh division, Renji (thug love!)  
**Word Count:** 997  
**Warning/s: **Minor spoilers for minor details in the Soul Society arc (thus, not really any spoilers at all).  
**Summary:** Before Renji leaves, his teammates decide to get him the most fitting of presents.   
**Dedication:** luneetsoleil- here is (one of) your request(s)! I hope it was the one you wanted the most? --;;  
**A/N: **So the request was for Zaraki and co. and the wearing of pink. Um. The only thing is, I'm setting it BEFORE the rescue? I know, I know, I suck. I SUCK! But I totally got inspired by that fruity pink-and-white robe thingy Renji was wearing in one of the earlier Soul Society arc eps in the anime when I read your request. I don't remember which episode it _was_ but c'mon. You know what I'm talking about.

* * *

Renji's scheduled to transfer out of the eleventh to join the sixth as a vice-captain very soon, and Zaraki just can't respect a guy who wants to work for the owner of the fruitiest bankai out of all bankais to ever bankai in the history of bankai-dom. 

The rest of the eleventh is just as appalled, but Renji seems adamant, and so they've been scraping together for a little going away present, to let Abarai know that there're no hard feelings even though he's obviously copping out and leaving the only respectable division in seireitei.

When Kenpachi discovers what the boys plan on buying, he chips in without hesitation, grinning because it isn't a half-bad idea considering who came up with it.

Ikkaku wants to take umbrage at that, but he wants Kenpachi's money more, so he doesn't say anything.

They send Ayasekawa off to buy the thing a few days later, giving the pretty-boy very specific instructions and trusting that his taste will do the rest to make this goodbye gift perfect.

Ayasekawa doesn't disappoint them when he returns with a fancy wrapped box with a big pink bow on it, all professionally done and perfect. The fifth-chair beams and presents it to Ikkaku, stating that it was the most fun he's had shopping with someone else's money since his first boyfriend.

Ikkaku rolls his eyes but supposes that anything Yumichika says only reinforces the fact that there was no one better to have purchased Renji's gift.

In true eleventh division fashion, there's a farewell party for Abarai on the eve of his departure, booze flowing and games of cards, mahjong, and dice everywhere while Yachiru buzzes around excitedly.

Before long, Ikkaku clears his throat and taps his bottle to get everyone quiet. When that doesn't work he pounds on his chest and threatens that the next guy who talks is gonna be beaten up so bad hell be uglier than Maki Maki.

That gets their attention and everyone falls silent while Aramaki sulks in the corner.

"Oi…as all the rest of you chumps know, today's the day Abarai wimps out…er, leaves us for other things, greener pastures, richer captains." He grins as Renji rolls his eyes. "But we're the eleventh, and we don't need him, 'cuz we'll still be the best damned division around even without him, right?"

Grunts of approval and raised glasses confirm Ikkaku's response.

Renji snorts, but can't help but grin a little himself because deep down, he agrees too.

"Anyways, to show we ain't got no hard feelings, Renji, man, we all got ya a present."

Renji blinks, not having expected this. "Huh?"

"Ya heard me, man. We…that is, the whole division, pooled some money to get you a really damn fitting goodbye present. Somethin' you can take to the sixth and remember your old, broke pals by."

"Aw fellas, ya shouldn't of…"

"Don't get all sappy on us and take the damn thing already, wouldja Abarai?" Iba urges from the crowd. Everyone echoes his impatience.

"Alright, alright," Renji concedes, staggering to his feet and accepting the box. "The hell?" he asks, poking at the bow and eyeing his colleague warily. "Pink?"

"Che. It's fancy stuff, Abarai. Better get used to it, ya know? The taste of the rich? It's all like that. Now open it, asshole."

"Fine, fine," Renji mutters, yanking unceremoniously on the ribbon.

The rest of the division grows quiet in anticipation, and as the redhead lifts to lid, he discovers--

More pink.

"The… hell?"

Ikkaku grins and slaps his friend on the back. "Fuckin' _expensive_ threads we got for ya there, but you know, we didn't want ya going to Moneybags' division without at least one set of nice clothes!" Madarame guffaws gleefully.

"Oi…"

"This is absolutely the finest material of clothing available, and very fashionable,' Yumichika intercedes then, proceeding to give the article's pedigree in painstaking detail and finishing with a, "we hope you can put it to good use, Renji."

From his seat in the back, Kenpachi finally speaks up. "Yeah. Wear it and think of us, when your giant poof of a captain is bein' all snooty like the poof he is. Che. You never had it so good as ya did here, Abarai."

Renji doesn't know whether to be touched or offended, and settles instead, for staring at his gift. "It's uh. It's…"

Yachiru materializes on his shoulder then, looking down eagerly into the box. "Waaaaah, it _is_ pretty!" she agrees. "Shouldn't you say 'thanks' now, Pencil-brows?"

Renji sighs. "Um…well… er, thanks everyone. I just uh…don't think pink is my uh color. It's…"

Yachiru jumps off of him and lands atop of Ikkaku's head, frowning down at the redhead. "What's wrong with pink?" she asks dangerously, crossing her arms and looking at Renji expectantly.

Renji decides that maybe pink isn't so bad.

"It's uh, great, fukutaichou. Thanks everyone."

He leaves the division with his box the next morning, somehow unable to have any hard feelings when he thinks about it, because that's how the eleventh is, unapologetic but familial anyway. He wonders if he's going to miss it, but tells himself that he has personal goals he has to take care of now, and this is the best opportunity he's had in years.

He arrives at the sixth division headquarters promptly at six and receives his orders from Kuchiki Byakuya himself, the man's eyes unimpressed as he stares down at the redhead.

Renji finds himself clutching at his box and remembering his ex-captain's words as he salutes Kuchiki-taichou and heads to his new quarters.

From that day on he endures Kuchiki Byakuya's demands because he has a long-term goal, but Renji finds that at the times when he's feeling particularly nostalgic, he dons his gift and takes comfort from the fact that the family he left behind in the eleventh is full of great big, stupidly honest assholes, all of whom he hopes will remember him even in his absence.

He remembers them.

**END**


	262. Just the Way You Are

**262.**

**Title:** Just the Way You Are  
**Rating:** PG-15 (bordering R?)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxKira, mentions of AizenxGin   
**Word Count:** 800  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** flashback fic (sort of?)- Gin and Kira celebrate New Years' together.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- I hope somehow, this works. crosses fingers  
**A/N: **The request was GinxKira with Gin being nice (?) during the holidays. Here goes nothing.

* * *

He likes his cute little Kira-chan just the way he is, because he's sweet and blushes nicely and lets Gin do all manner of dirty little things to him without even the smallest complaint.

And so Ichimaru doesn't want to take Aizen's advice on this matter, not really. He doesn't want to break Izuru down and rebuild him in all the ways Aizen thinks is best, doesn't want to do the same to his cute little Kira-chan that Aizen did to him, once upon a time.

So when his former captain suggests something, some method to perhaps, further push Izuru irreversibly into his grasp, Gin smiles and thrusts back against Aizen's hips and asks very nicely, if taichou can't pay more attention to _him_ right now.

Aizen can probably see right through him, but the older man always just smiles and does as Gin asks, pushing forward and murmuring, "Go your own way then, Gin," in his former vice-captain's ear as he does.

And Gin thinks he will, because he likes his cute little Kira-chan just the way he is now, all smiles and stammers and cute blushes, dressed in his New Year's clothes and looking at Ichimaru from over the brim of his teacup, eyes full of nervous, hopeful anticipation as they eat their fish and rice together, a quiet celebration in the third division captain's office for just the two of them.

And Ichimaru just doesn't think he needs all of that fanfare with the young man before him, doesn't need to make any extra efforts so that he can break Kira down and rebuild him the way he wants. He doesn't need to try and make it impossible for Izuru to live without him.

It's something that just comes naturally to his cute little Kira-chan.

And so they sit on the floor eating together while the blonde looks at him with those worshipful eyes, somehow demure, somehow excited, somehow still young and sweet and hopeful even after all the dirty things Izuru has let his captain do to him.

Gin thinks that everything is perfect just as it is.

And so, as they finish their meals and Ichimaru feels one hunger being slowly exchanged for another, he sets his teacup down and resting his head in his palm, looks at Izuru intently from across the low table.

The sudden focus of his captain's attention nearly makes Kira drop his chopsticks, and as he recovers them, his face flushes deliciously pink. He looks down at the table and the single grain of rice that fell on top of it when he fumbled just now. "Ah…taichou… sorry, I…"

Gin reaches out and plucks the bowl from his subordinate's hands. "Full?" he asks pleasantly, setting the dishes down.

"Ah…yes sir," Izuru murmurs quietly, voice hushed and sweet.

It's so cute that Gin almost wants to toss the whole table aside and get right down to the next part of their celebration.

But it's a new year starting today and it might be bad luck to cause such a mess, especially after all the cleaning that had to be done in here days before. So Gin merely relaxes back, resting one elbow on his knee as he watches Kira fiddle shyly with the hem of one long sleeve, looking sheepish and excited and ashamed for being both at the same time.

Gin licks his lips and asks very gently, "Na Kira… can you take your clothes off now?"

At the request, Kira turns pink around his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose, at the tips of his ears and—though Ichimaru can't see it—on the back of his neck.

It's absolutely lovely, and when Kira turns his eyes downward, shyly murmuring, "Alright," before he lets the cloth slip teasingly off of one white shoulder, Gin ends up kicking the table aside anyway.

Ichimaru likes his cute little Kira-chan just the way he is. He absolutely loves how Izuru still manages to be sweet and shy like this, blushing nicely even with his legs in the air and his clothes half off of him and ruined now, breathless and sensitive to every touch, every dirty little thing his captain is doing to him.

And so Gin thinks that maybe Aizen-taichou is wrong about this and that he doesn't need to make the extra effort to break his cute vice-captain apart and rebuild him how he wants, because Kira is perfect just like this, dizzy with bewildered pleasure and softly crying, "taichou, taichou," into his captain's ear.

Gin bites down on that pale, perfect throat and knows that he doesn't need to do anything more than this to make it impossible for his cute little Kira-chan to live without him.

It's just something that comes naturally to both of them.

**END**


	263. Deeper Meaning

**263.**

**Title:** Deeper Meaning  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 909  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the Soul Society Arc? But not really. WAFF lives here too. **  
Summary:** Shuuhei researches Christmas.   
**Dedication:** kshi- hope you like this and that it fits your request! **  
A/N: **So for this one the request was ShuuxYumi and gift preparation for Christmas time. I went a little farther than just preparation I think, hope no one minds.

* * *

Yumi is fascinated by this thing called Christmas in the human world, because it is full of images of beauty and beautiful sentiments. Knowing him, he just can't resist something he considers almost on par with himself.

So one day, Shuuhei comes home to find his lover humming strange songs and hanging red bows and little green branches of smelly plants around their home, looking happy and radiant as he perfectly lays out every decoration like a purebred happy-homemaker and not the deceptively deadly shinigami he is. When the confused vice-captain asks what all the fanfare is supposed to be for, Yumi smiles and says simply, "something special."

Shuuhei has to ask Ikkaku about it later to get an elaboration, and grumbling, the bald shinigami begrudgingly explains the strange custom of Christmas that he learned of in the human world when he and Ayasekawa were on assignment, stating that it's supposed to have some sort of deep meaning or something in some parts of the world, though all he could really think of when he saw the Japanese rendition of it was "money and pretty things."

Shuuhei thinks it's odd to have such a dichotomy in interpretation for this one matter when all humans are essentially the same, and intrigued, he decides to further educate himself on the matter.

He spends a few days in the Research and Technology Institute looking things up regarding the matter while Yumichika bakes gingerbread and experimentally roasts chestnuts.

The day of the holiday grows nearer, and as Shuuhei digs into the tomes of human customs and history available to him at the institute, he finds that while he doesn't quite get the story behind it all—too many contradictions—he thinks he can maybe grasp the deeper meaning Ikkaku was talking about somewhere in all of the jumble.

And the more he finds himself thinking about that, the more he finds himself thinking about Yumichika and what it means to have the other man in his life, especially after the time of great pain and self-doubt he was forced to endure when Tousen left.

Once the research is done he discovers that he has a day left before Yumichika's efforts culminate and his "something special" is upon them. Shuuhei takes that time to wander Rukongai a little bit, strolling through the markets and trying to find the Christmas atmosphere he read about inside of him though he knows that here in this land of the dead, the day isn't supposed to hold any sort of special meaning.

He finds it anyway, in the form of a thin gold band with three small, sparkling diamonds embedded in it. He smiles sheepishly at the vendor when he asks about it and the old man chuckles knowingly as he puts it in a box and wishes Shuuhei the best of luck.

When he comes home that evening Yumichika has prepared a large meal that looks like far too much for just the two of them. Shuuhei kisses him and thanks for him for his hard work. They eat together in comfortable silence though occasionally, Ayasekawa absently hums carols he doesn't know the words to at the table.

They finish and there are way too many leftovers still in front of them, though Yumi simply says he'll make lunch for them tomorrow with it and take anything left to his teammates in the eleventh. Shuuhei says that it's a good idea and does the dishes while the other man dries them, and before long they're sitting on the couch together in front of a fire Yumichika insisted on building. They sip cocoa and don't say anything in particular to one another.

Shuuhei still doesn't get what the story behind this whole holiday is maybe, but he thinks he understands a deeper meaning of his own somewhere in the mess. He finds it sitting there next to Yumichika in comfortable silence, his hip against the other man's all he needs in the world right now.

Maybe Christmas is supposed to be about redemption and hope and a lot of other grandiose things that someone like him can't begin to truly comprehend, but for Shuuhei, he feels it's enough to simply dwell on thoughts of family and friendship and showing the someone who you love that you appreciate having him in your life everyday.

They fall asleep on the couch together like that; Yumi curled up and pleasantly warm against Shuuhei's side. The little box is still in his pocket, and as he rests his chin atop the other shinigami's, he smiles and hopes for morning to come faster, just so he can tell his deeper meaning thank you for being here with him.

When they wake up, Yumi smiles and kisses him good morning, wishing him a Merry Christmas. He pads happily to the tree he's decorated with lots of red and silver glass balls and takes a box out from under it, returning to the couch and his warm spot in Shuuhei's arms before he pushes it towards his lover. "Here."

Shuuhei thanks him and opens it. It's a bright orange scarf, and Yumi beams, stating that he knitted it himself and now they can match.

The other man is bemused and touched simultaneously, despite his not really liking orange on a regular basis. He thinks he'll wear the scarf with pride anyway.

Feeling warm, he reaches into his pocket and says, "I got you something too."

**END**


	264. Marks of Intelligence and Good Breeding

**264.**

**Title:** Marks of Intelligence and Good Breeding  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 315  
**Warning/s: **vague spoilers for Ch 195 and up  
**Summary:** Shuuhei contemplates, alone.  
**Dedication:** idiosyn- for letting me a big shameless whore and poke her for ShuuxYumi. XD  
**A/N: **I should study or write my paper or something. Yeah. I should.

* * *

Girls will always admire Hisagi Shuuhei no matter what, no matter how undignified he may be at any one moment or how callous.

They will admire him even though his lover is male, the whole thing giving them an excuse to secretly plot their own special happy-endings after they steal Shuuhei away from the bad influence that is Ayasekawa.

"Look at Hisagi-san… he's so… intellectual looking!" one lowly ranked tenth division girl squeals quietly as she and another teammate gaze at Shuuhei from across the courtyard while he sits alone looking thoughtful, his chin resting in his palm as he stares down intently at the wooden table.

"Aa. I wonder what sorts of profound ideas must be running through his head!" her companion coos back, cheeks flushing pink at the thought of being privy to Hisagi's most private, secret thoughts.

"It's probably something very deep," the first girl murmurs knowingly. "I hear he's very smart."

"Of course!" her friend agrees instantly. "You have to be to be a vice-captain after all, don't you?"

"Definitely," the first girl sighs, looking at Shuuhei dreamily. "And responsible, and strong, and capable… full of charisma and leadership…."

They both flutter when Shuuhei runs a hand through his hair and furrows his brow, still gazing at the same spot on the table he has been for the past few minutes, his lunch uneaten beside him.

The girls surmise that he is very close to transcending food and other worldly things altogether, what with the power of his deep, profound, intellectual thoughts and all.

Shuuhei doesn't notice any of their laser-beam attentions as he sits at his table, counting backwards from one thousand in prime numbers while one hand clenches and unclenches beside his hip.

He sighs and closes his eyes and misses Yumichika something horrible.

His lover has been gone for a week now.

And he is so. Damn. _Horny._

**END**


	265. Matchmaking

**265.**

**Title:** Matchmaking  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, IkkakuxKira, Renji+Byakuya (ish?) and some Renji+Kira  
**Word Count:** 726  
**Warning/s: **WAFF! Oh the WAFF. And the ghei, I guess. XD  
**Summary:** Continuation (of sorts) to #253 (The Dating Game)- Renji remains.  
**Dedication:** Nico, here is your request! YAY.  
**A/N: **The request was: Being nice to Kira so he can be more like he was during his academy days. Let's see how I did?

* * *

Renji hated to admit it because he sort-of _lost_ when he thought about it, but seeing Kira act how he was now did his heart a world of good, because when he looked at the blonde like this, he thought he could see the face of the kid he went to school with a long time ago somewhere in there still.

Maybe even better than that.

Ikkaku was a big, dumb idiot and Kira was a million years too good for an asshole like him, but Renji supposed that if he could just keep hearing Izuru laugh like he was now, life couldn't be that bad and maybe Ikkaku wasn't that much of an ass _all _the time after all.

"C'mere you…" Madarame growled, clothes dripping wet from the bottle of water the blonde vice-captain dumped all over him at Ayasekawa's prodding, the fifth seat declaring that the top of Ikkaku's head was "just like a seal's."

And so it was, but the water was soaked up into his clothes because those weren't as shiny-smooth as baldie's crown, and not-really-enraged, he chased after Kira, who, pink-faced and breathless, let himself be caught before too long, eyes shining as his lover grabbed him about the waist and attacked his throat with his teeth.

Renji wanted to roll his eyes and maybe go sulk somewhere alone, but this was a picnic with free alcohol and when he really thought about it, he could admit that it wasn't too bad to hear Kira's laughter, sweet and clear and without the shadow of Ichimaru Gin looming over it.

So he leaned back and downed a mouthful of booze and belched while Kira laughed and sighed and let Ikkaku pull him to the ground, the sakura petals billowing all around them.

Like some damn romance movie or something.

Shuuhei and Yumichika twittered together and touched foreheads, because the sight of other couples being tender was like a magic switch for them and they just had to get in on the fun somehow.

Renji thought that maybe the whole cherry blossom viewing party thing wasn't for people who didn't have someone else to grope while liquored up and crazy-in-love.

"Think that's funny, huh?" Ikkaku grunted, touching the damp cloth of his uniform to Kira's, who laughed and shivered and shined up adoringly at the third seat even if he was making them both cold and wet.

"Yeah," he sighed, sounding content. "I do."

Madarame found himself sighing back and leaning forward for a quick kiss. "Bastard," he murmured, without any vehemence, before getting off of the blonde and reaching out to help pull him back up into a sitting position.

He noticed Renji looking at them then, and with a little grin, saluted and said, "Maybe we oughta find you someone nice sometime soon, Abarai. Them sour grapes are practically rollin' off ya," he taunted, though not in a malicious way.

Renji snorted. "I ever get as sticky-sweet as you two or the old married couple over there," he gestured to Shuuhei and Yumichika, "please gut me."

"You get like those two and I"ll gut you and then gut _myself_," Ikkaku declared plopping back down cross-legged on the blanket and popping the top to a jug of beer for himself.

"Oh don't say that you two," Kira admonished, curling up beside Madarame and accepting the bottle from him after he took the first drink.

"He's just jealous," Shuuhei elucidated; the first sign that he'd been paying attention to things _other_ than Ayasekawa all day. "Gotta get him laid."

"We _should_," Yumi agreed quickly, eyes lighting up in the way that Renji was beginning to think of as 'very dangerous'.

The redhead sputtered, dribbling some alcohol on his chin, but managed a clear "No!" anyway.

"Yes!" Yumi and Kira echoed without even pausing to consider _his_ feelings.

Abarai turned helplessly to Ikkaku and Shuuhei for help. Or some animal control. They should really know to keep their dangerous pets on leashes or something by now.

But both of them only shrugged back helplessly at him while their lovers got all excited about this great new mission of theirs.

Renji felt like he was going to need more alcohol, and uncapped a new bottle before taking a long, long drink.

"How about Kuchiki-taichou?" Kira posed devilishly, eyes sparkling.

Renji snorted booze through his nose.

**END**


	266. Bentos of Love

**266.**

**Title:** Bentos of Love  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, IkkakuxKira, Iba, Renji  
**Word Count:** 530  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers.  
**Summary:** Remember #59 (Bentos of Love)? Well. Now I continue, some 200+ drabbles later. Heh. – Ikkaku as a newlywed.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- picture of Kira bakingNEEDED TO WRITE DOMESTICITY. I blame you for the sudden influx of Kira, Kira, Kira, KIRA in the writing. :P  
**A/N: **CAKE.

* * *

Shuuhei was used to it by now but Ikkaku thought that it was a little weird, because before it had always been like, all the guys and then Hisagi. But now it was him and Hisagi with Renji and Iba giving _both_ of them patronizing looks.

It was just _lunch_ for crying out loud.

Shuuhei, noticing his cohort's discomfort, gave him a sideways look that said something about karma and calmly ate his five-star bento like it was nothing.

Thinking it wasn't _that _big a deal, Ikkaku looked down at the box perched atop his lap. Right. No big deal. It just had some shrimp and some fish, some vegetable tempura, and a radish cut into a flower, and… a heart-shaped onigiri that had a heart-shaped umeboshi right in the middle.

Yeah. Nothing fancy or anything.

He looked at it and wondered if maybe it was too pretty to eat.

Catching his intent focus on the aesthetics of his lunch, Iba and Renji tsked at the bald death god. "Goin' over to the dark side, man," Iba murmured before turning to Shuuhei and adding, "You're a damn bad influence Hisagi, you hear me?" The seventh division vice-captain was plainly disgusted with his better-fed companions.

Shuuhei rolled his eyes. "Dark side's fed better," he murmured by way of excuse before popping one of those cute little octopus wieners Yumi liked to make into his mouth.

"I woulda expected this from senpai, maybe," Renji began, stirring at his commissary gruel absently, "But dammit, Ikkaku, how early didja make poor Kira get up so he could make that little masterpiece for ya, huh?"

Ikkaku felt his cheeks turn slightly pink. "Aw, shaddup Renji. You know I didn't make him do anything. I woke up and it was waitin' for me. Even had a note and everything. Wanna read it?" Madarame snarled defensively.

"Che. Save the sugar for dessert there, Ikkaku," Iba rumbled, wiping his mouth clean of greasy sauce with the back of his hand. "Real men eat commissary food, ain't that right, Abarai?"

"Damn straight."

"You two're just jealous. Assholes… you'd jump the first chance you could get to have a lunch like this," Ikkaku muttered, feeling defensive of Kira's hard work. "Just 'cause me'n Shuuhei lucked out doesn't mean ya gotta act like we've turned traitor or somethin'. Right, Hisagi?"

Shuuhei nodded as he uncapped his thermos and poured himself a cup of tea. "Yup."

Feeling vindicated, Ikkaku pushed on. "'Sides, if Kira wants to do this sorta thing, I ain't gonna hold it against him. I don't expect it either, so it's not like I _make_ him cook up all this good stuff. Don't make him shape the onigiri into hearts or force him to cut my radishes all flowery or tell him that I want chocolate cake or anything like that. And I always thank him afterwards and…" he trailed off when he realized all three of the other men were looking at him now. "What?"

Shuuhei blinked. "You get cake? I don't get cake." Pause. "Kira makes cake?"

Ikkaku slapped a palm to his forehead and hunched over his bento protectively. "Forget it. Just eat your lunches, assholes."

**END**


	267. Responsible

**267.**

**Title:** Responsible  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **HitsugayaxMatsumoto (implied)  
**Word Count:** 543  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but randomness ahoy.  
**Summary:** Even all grown up, Hitsugaya Toushirou is first and foremost, a captain of the Gotei-13.  
**Dedication:** tokki-chan and the new hitsuxmatsu community! Here's to a long, prosperous future and many awesome fanworks.  
**A/N: **It's been a while since I wrote these two? So I'm out of practice, but it was fun to try again. --;;

* * *

He's taller now. His shoulders have broadened and his limbs elongated. He's still lean but he has a  
definition to his musculature that he didn't have some years ago, a pure, physical strength that can finally match the strength his reiatsu had reached in his youth.

He's got angles now too, sharper planes on his face and a nice v-shape to his torso that the girls blush and giggle over. His eyes aren't so big that they take up half his face anymore and his strides have become long enough to look graceful even when he has to walk fast.

"Histugaya-taichou has become a man," they say, the older captains laughing and shaking their heads at how fast time flies.

So its no wonder the girls flock around him five or six at a time, offering him homemade gifts of food or clothing and asking him if he's free later. They always turn charmingly pink and smile shyly at him when they plan on confessing; trying to get him to meet them in private to talk, out by the sakura trees.

They're pretty enough, sweet enough, small and cute and friendly enough that anyone would be happy to be with them, he thinks.

They're the kind of girls you're supposed to bring home to mother and father, who you're supposed to pledge your life to and build a future with and fall so much in love with that it hurts.

They're the kind of girls any man would be proud to have at his side.

But when they ask him, Hitsugaya Toushirou always says, "I'm sorry, I can't do that," before bowing out.

He usually leaves them then, and they are sometimes baffled and sometimes hurt at the abruptness of his departures.

But he always leaves them behind without a backwards glance.

They're the kind of girls—sweet and pretty and cute—that other men would be proud to take home to mother and father.

But Hitsugaya always bows out and says, "I have a lot of work to do today," before promptly returning to his office, where he knows his desk will be piled high with paperwork. It always is. And there is always enough of it that he knows he'll have to stay there and work late into the night. It might have been annoying for its consistency, but he finds himself looking forward to it more often than not, looking forward to the quiet of his captain's seat in his captain's office deep in the heart of the tenth division headquarters.

His peers think it's crazy. Why defer the right to escort those beautiful girls someplace nice in order to do boring old paperwork late into the night?

He doesn't really know the answer to that question himself, but he does know that there's something satisfying about returning to his office to find his desk completely covered in paperwork save for one spot, where there is always a hot cup of tea waiting for him.

Perhaps it's a little bit odd, but he thinks that all those cute, sweet, pretty girls who want so badly to spend some time with him just can't measure up to that one cup of tea.

Or the, "Welcome back, taichou," that always accompanies it.

**END**


	268. Dirty Pool

**268.**

**Title:** Dirty Pool  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Renji+Byakuya, ShuuxYumi, IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count:** 668  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers, but some OOCness. XD  
**Summary:** Sequel to #265 (Matchmaking)- The mission is underway.  
**Dedication:** swinku because the promise of art gives me JOY. Also to ninisa for sharing that great OT3 pic (complete with Ishida rape!). XD  
**A/N: **This is just silly. Honestly, I wrote this entirely for Ikkaku. ENTIRELY.

* * *

"Y-you…I mean… y-you do _like_ him, don't you, Renji?" Kira asks shyly, cheeks turning pink at just the thought of it.

Renji growls and tears his eyes away from his old classmate before covering his ears with his hands. "Stop it. I mean it Kira. Get that damn look off yer face right now. That's some dirty fuckin' pool."

Kira's smile fades and his eyes begin to water ever so slightly at the accusation. "Sorry! I didn't, I'm…"

"Hey! The hell'd you do to Kira?" Ikkaku demands, having returned from his bathroom break just in time to see his boyfriend's eyes start to get all watery.

_Shit_.

Before the giant bald marshmallow (seriously, no pride, this guy) can completely freak out, Renji sighs and drags his hands away from his ears. "I didn't do nothin', ya great dick-whipped idiot." He points at the blond accusatorily. "_He's_ tryin' to manipulate _me_!"

Kira looks stricken. "I…"

Ikkaku is right there at Izuru's side before a single tear can fall. "Aw, baby, I'll kill him. Yeah? That make you feel better?" he asks, voice gentle. "I'll beat the ever-lovin' shit out of him, you just say the word."

Kira shakes his head. "I just…I want him to be happy too!"

Renji thinks that Yumichika must have put the blonde up to this because there's no damn way in hell Kira would use his powers for evil otherwise.

"Che. Well, I hope you're happy, asshole," Madarame starts, throwing a protective arm over his lover and rubbing his shoulders soothingly. "He's just tryin' to help, ya know."

Abarai grits his teeth. "I'm tellin' you just like I told everyone else. Kuchiki-taichou is _off limits_. Your crazy ass schemes don't _work_ with guys like that. Maybe it does on some low-level thugs and tight-ass vice-captain pretty boys, but…"

Ikkaku's eyes narrow dangerously. "What're you tryin' to say there, Abarai?"

Not intimidated by his bald friend, Renji straightens and states, "I'm _tryin'_ to say that Kuchiki-taichou ain't the kind of guy I can just walk up to and ask, "Hey, taichou… got any thug in ya? No? Ya _want_ some?" and have him fall all over me beggin' for it."

Kira blushes pink.

Ikkaku clamps two hands over his lover's ears. "When the hell did you get so damn crude?" he grunts, frowning disapprovingly.

Renji stares at the other death god and thinks that love really changes a guy. "You're a dip-shit, you know that, Ikkaku?"

Madarame growls. "Yeah? Well, at least I ain't the one Yumi and Hisagi are talkin' to Kuchiki-taichou about right _now._"

Renji blinks. "What?"

"You heard me. Yumi and his boy toy're havin' tea with Kuchiki right now and probably talkin' to the great walkin' iceberg 'bout how he might _get_ some thug in him, if ya know what I mean."

Renji is too shell-shocked to call Ikkaku a hypocrite for his use of similarly crude language. "T-the _hell_? How'd that fruitcake arrange _that_?"

Ikkaku, finding his advantage in the argument, grins. "Guess you didn't know Yumi ain't exactly 'low-level thug', didja?" he crows, withdrawing his hands from over Kira's ears because the blonde is looking put-out at not being able to join in on the conversation too. "Ain't one of the huge ones, but a noble house is a noble house all the same, and he can request an audience with that stuffed-shirt if he wants to 'cause of it."

Abarai pales even further. "So…he's…"

"Yup."

"I think it's terribly romantic…" Kira interjects in his most gentle tone on Renji's expression. "Urm…"

Renji screams and takes off running.

Ikkaku and Kira watch him go.

After a minute, Madarame allows a sideways glance at his lover, who looks completely composed and normal again.

He blinks. "Na…Kira," he starts carefully, "were you um…really… ya know… manipulatin' him just now?"

Kira looks up innocently at the other death god. "Is that what it was?"

Ikkaku decides that maybe it's time to stop letting Kira hang out with Yumichika in his free time.

**END**


	269. Whipped

**269.**

**Title:** Whipped   
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 747  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can see.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei and Yumichika have an equal relationship.  
**Dedication:** Yoshi, who is whipped.  
**A/N: **I figured since this is #269 that I should celebrate the '69' in it or something. With Shuuhei. It made more sense in my head when I thought about it, it did.

* * *

Everyone is always making fun of him for being "whipped" or "under the thumb" or "wrapped around the little finger of," but Shuuhei takes it all in stride (mostly), because he's comfortable enough with himself to know that it's true to some extent.

He likes keeping Yumichika happy. And so he doesn't mind carrying all the groceries home or even running out in the middle of the night to find an open-all-the-time market for strange, post-coital food cravings if those are the things it takes to keep him happy. He just doesn't really mind "following orders from his domestic-taichou" (as Iba and the guys like to call it). He isn't bothered by the fact that he's ridiculed for his devotion, because in his book it's nothing to be ashamed of.

He knows Yumi likes it, uses it as a way to sort of show the world that they're together. Ayasekawa loves to flaunt things like that right in other people's faces. It's just how he is, flashy and loud and irresistible when he's being either or both.

And Shuuhei thinks it's fine because that's how his lover's personality is. The whole world can think he's whipped because of it if it wants to, but he knows that between he and Yumichika, there's nothing more or nothing less than total equality.

It's just that Yumichika likes showing the world and everyone in it that Shuuhei is so in love with him that the vice-captain is willing to do whatever Yumi asks and is in his power to do.

Shuuhei on the other hand, is exactly the opposite. He doesn't want to share those moments when _he's_ in control with anyone, because he doesn't think it's any of their business to see. He prefers that they never even imagine the possibility of a time when Yumichika is bent to Shuuhei's will, because the vice-captain is a very private person and thinks that those moments are for him and him alone.

If he can help it, no one else will know what his lover sounds like when he's begging, those delicate hands fluttering helplessly along the muscles of Shuuhei's back as he makes small, desperate noises in the back of his throat. Nobody else will know what Yumi feels like when he's touched just the way he likes, in the secret places on his body that drive him wild. They won't know the raggedness of his breaths or the glassy look in his eyes, the way he shudders in Shuuhei's arms and softly cries his lover's name when he's close and just needs that one last push over the edge.

Shuuhei wants to be the only one in the world who knows about the moments when Yumichika is mindless with desire underneath him, every little touch sending the other man into delicious little fits of helpless pleasure.

Shuuhei thinks that in those moments when he is in control, Yumi's reactions are for his eyes only.

And so Hisagi might be ridiculed by his peers for being willing to (more or less) do whatever Yumichika asks of him, but even so, the vice-captain is certain that they'll never see the other side of the coin if he can help it.

He could easily reaffirm his place, he thinks, if the others knew about the things he can do to Yumichika with the simplest touch of skin on skin, but it's not their place to be privy to that. Ever.

Those moments belong only to him.

And he's satisfied with that.

So when Iba grins and makes whipping noises when the couple passes him in the marketplace, the ninth division vice-captain simply ignores the big idiot and hefts their shopping bags more securely in his arms.

Or when Renji snorts and grumbles incredulously because Shuuhei isn't allowed to get drunk on certain nights of the week or eat too much red meat on others, Hisagi simply shrugs at his friend and has water to go with his tofu.

Or say, when Ikkaku wants to go gambling on the weeks when they get paid and Shuuhei goes off to buy that new, "beautiful" bookshelf Yumi thinks will look nice in the living room instead, he manages to ignore the indignant spiel defaming his character as a man that inevitably follows.

The other guys really don't get why he does it.

And whenever he carries a happily sighing, happily naked Yumichika to their bedroom, Shuuhei thinks that he wouldn't have it any other way.

**END**


	270. Creating a Monster

**270.**

**Title:** Creating a Monster  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira, implied ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 660  
**Warning/s: **Set post- Soul Society arc? But no real spoilers.  
**Summary:** Companion drabble to anything IkkakuxKira I've written in the past- Ikkaku is a bad influence on sweet, innocent Kira-chan.  
**Dedication:** swinku- YAY FANART. XD  
**A/N: **Vaguely prony, but I figured I needed to write some after getting the OMG SO CUTE art. XD

* * *

The first time Kira had climbed into his lap and kissed him hard, Ikkaku was so shocked he'd nearly fallen out of the chair and dumped them both on the floor.

Kira had noted his lover's surprise perhaps, and had been both shy and pleased at it, looking up at the other death god through his lashes—it was so fucking adorable-- and asking with a mixture of humility and hope, if Ikkaku wouldn't like to go to bed now.

It had been all Madarame could do to nod and not tumble them onto the floor-- on purpose this time-- so he could start ravishing right there.

The next time it had been laying in bed, halfway to unconsciousness until he'd felt a hand begin to gently stroke his chest, the touch of warm fingers against his skin and the whispered desire by his ear to not fall asleep just yet, please.

He'd woken up just fine then, and when he'd felt a series of soft, needful kisses being placed against the side of his jaw sleep fast became the last thing on his mind.

Ikkaku never would have thought that Kira would become the bold one so quickly. He never thought he'd be the one waking up late on a weekend with a lapful of blonde atop him, sighing "good morning" between breaths. He didn't think he'd be the one swatting a hand away from his thigh in the middle of a mahjong game with the fellas when he was supposed to be concentrating on the really _awesome_ tiles he'd just been dealt.

He never imagined he'd be the one in the relationship blushing after returning from a particularly successful mission only to have a tongue shoved down his throat and legs wrapped around his waist while other members of his team whistled and hooted as they passed.

Renji and Iba would smack him and tell him he'd created a monster and that Kira used to be so sweet and innocent-like before he'd come along. Shuuhei would only look amused and sometimes a bit sympathetic, saying wearily, "Welcome to the club."

Ikkaku thought that Kira was definitely still sweet and innocent in his own way and that the other guys should stop harping about that just because the guy had discovered that sex could be _fun_ and not painful and really, that it could happen whenever he wanted-- not like _Ikkaku_ was going to say no or anything-- instead of when some asshole with a fake smile decided it would be nice to pop in for a few minutes to get his rocks off.

Maybe Madarame had inadvertently created a monster or something when he taught all those things to Izuru, but he much preferred things the way they were now than how they'd been before. He liked this better really, the two of them pink-cheeked and smiling breathlessly at one another after coming their brains out for the second time in the same night. He'd pick this over the timid, shame-filled Kira he used to know any day of the week.

Even if he was pretty damn exhausted. And sticky.

Kira, stretching languidly, sighed and twisted so he could fit right up against Madarame's heaving chest.

"You alright?" Ikkaku murmured, tossing an arm tiredly over the blonde's shoulders.

"Yeah," Kira breathed, nuzzling against the side of the other death god's throat. "Ne… Ikkaku?"

"Mmm?"

"Next time, let's try that backwards, alright?"

If Renji or Iba knew, they'd be scandalized. What with their ideals of a sweet, innocent little Kira and all.

He grunted. "Mmm, yeah. Backwards. We could do that. Sounds hot."

They'd definitely smack Ikkaku and tell him it was all his fault, that he had thoroughly corrupted Izuru, made a monster out of him.

And maybe he had.

But as he drifted off to sleep with the promise of something naughty _and_ backwards tomorrow, Ikkaku decided that he didn't mind taking full responsibility for his actions.

**END **


	271. Wasted

**271.**

**Title:** Wasted  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyorakuxUkitake, Yamamoto  
**Word Count:** 715  
**Warning/s: **Er, minor spoilers for Kyouraku and Ukitake's youths?  
**Summary:** Yamamoto-sensei is disappointed in Ukitake.  
**Dedication:** everyone who's sticking with me even though my brain has been consumed by only two or three pairings for a while now. --;;  
**A/N: **Simply because it's been a LONG TIME since I've written these two. --;;

* * *

The first time Yamamoto-sensei caught them kissing, he'd given both of them a long, slow look, before turning around and stating that they were late for class as he left.

As an after thought, he added, "Jyuushirou…meet me in my office."

Pink-cheeked, the young Ukitake had responded with a meek, "Yes, sensei."

Kyouraku promptly called out, "Shall I come too, Yama-jii?" after the ancient shinigami, and earned himself fifty laps around the academy grounds as a result.

Jyuushirou trudged with his head down into Yamamoto's office, embarrassed at having been caught though determined not to be ashamed because he really _liked_ Shunsui… a lot.

The young, white-haired student prepared himself to stand up to his most exalted and respected instructor in defense of the choice he had made.

"Come in and have a seat," Yamamoto instructed from his chair after Ukitake had bowed. The old man was smoking his pipe, still looking mildly at his favorite student as he did. He gestured to an open seat in front of his desk.

Jyuushirou took it and filled his lungs with a deep, shaky breath. "Sensei…"

Yamamoto held up a hand, stopping the young man mid-sentence. He took another slow, deliberate puff on his pipe before setting it down on the table. "Jyuushirou… I have to say, I'm disappointed in you," he began coolly.

Ukitake made to protest, but a sharp look from the white-bearded commander killed the words in the youth's throat.

"You were late for class today. You're _never_ late for class. And when I came across to two of you what did I discover? That you were tardy because you and Shunsui were engaged in…"

"Sensei, please!" Ukitake objected, face turning red. "We were just…"

Yamamoto waved a hand. "I know what you were doing," he assured the young man calmly. "And to be honest, I had _hoped_ that for someone of your talent, such things would never come to pass."

Ukitake looked stricken.

But at the same time, determined.

"Sensei, Shunsui and I… we… really…well that is, the two of us…we really like each other," he started, wringing his hands in his lap nervously.

Yamamoto's wrinkles deepened as he frowned. "Do you really now?"

"Y-yes."

"Are you certain? You're too young really, to know these sorts of things, aren't you?"

"N-no sir! We… we _know_."

The old man eyed his charge. "You're _absolutely_ certain?"

Jyuushirou began to grow more confident the more he said it. "Yes, sensei."

Yamamoto's lip curled.

Ukitake braced himself.

And then the old man leaned back in his chair, looking defeated. "I was hoping for so much better for you, Jyuushirou," he admitted with a little wheeze.

Ukitake blinked. "Er… excuse me, sir?"

Yamamoto made a vague gesture with his hand in the air in front of him. "Shunsui is a real cad, you know," he began, using his other hand to rub at his temple like the mere thought of the other boy gave him a headache. "He's loud and obnoxious and knows no respect. He's flashy and smart-alecky and really, a good boy like you has no place being with a hooligan like that, Jyuushirou. What a waste."

The young man didn't know what to say. "Wait…so…"

Yamamoto sighed. "Really my boy, you could do _so much_ better."

Ukitake was too dumbfounded to defend Shunsui's character. "B-better, sir?"

"Of course. Much better."

But then Yamamoto thought of Kisuke and supposed that Jyuushirou could do _worse _too.

"In any case, please refrain from being tardy again, Jyuushirou. That is all."

"Ah, yessir!"

That day, Jyuushirou left his sensei's office with the knowledge that Shunsui was a cad (whom he really liked a lot) and that the two of them were assigned eraser duty for the rest of the week for being late.

So Ukitake made sure that the _next _time Yamamoto caught them kissing, it was on a weekend, and the two of them respectfully stopped immediately upon spotting their teacher. Jyuushirou bowed and Kyouraku gave a little salute and didn't say anything disrespectful or smart-alecky at all as the ancient shinigami passed.

Yamamoto supposed (grudgingly), that it wasn't a complete waste of Jyuushirou's good nature then, if in the future, he could at least look forward to more of the white-haired boy's positive influence on Shunsui's behavior.

**END**


	272. A Captain's Duty

**272.**

**Title:** A Captain's Duty  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, Byakuya+Renji (ish)  
**Word Count:** 867  
**Warning/s: **Tons of OOC and silliness, but no spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Continuation of #268 (Dirty Pool)- Yumichika and Shuuhei meet with Kuchiki Byakuya himself.  
**Dedication:** swinku for the promise of ShuuxYumi art! I is a happy camper. XD  
**A/N: **I just wanted to mess with Byakuya. Really. XD

* * *

Kuchiki Byakuya felt something vaguely like horror beginning to slowly consume him.

"And _that_, Kuchiki-taichou, is our predicament. Absolutely _horrendous _wouldn't you say?"

The sixth division captain wanted to blink and see if the little sparklies constantly hanging over Ayasekawa's head were real or merely figments of his imagination after it had been subjected to Yumichika's silver-tongue for the last… thirty-seven minutes and fifty-eight seconds.

"Herm… I see."

Yumichika smiled at him then, and he couldn't tell the difference for a moment, between predatory and pleasant.

Silence.

And then Hisagi coughed. "Er…good cookies ya got here, Kuchiki-taichou, sir."

Yumichika shot a sideways look at his lover, half-amused and mostly irritated at having his smooth atmosphere diluted ever-so-slightly, by Shuuhei's awkwardness. "Aren't they? Don't eat too many, darling."

Hisagi blushed at the endearment so easily thrown out in front of their exalted company and promptly shut up.

Diluted or not, Byakuya still felt like he was swimming in molasses. He blinked, fiddled with his teacup, and then said in his most neutral tone. "And what, Ayasekawa-san, would you propose _I_ do about it?"

Yumichika's smile broadened.

At the gesture, Byakuya forcibly suppressed his instincts, which were screaming at him to defend himself with the nearest available weapon (he didn't think the family would appreciate his destroying an heirloom teapot, especially in self-defense against a mere fifth-chair).

"Well, seeing as to how you are his captain and we are his friends, I only naturally thought that a harmonious combination of input from both his most respected colleague and his peers would be able to hash out a suitable solution to poor Abarai-san's loneliness."

Byakuya's shinigami-senses tingled in warning. A lot. "Erm… I don't see how I could offer any…assistance on such a personal matter, Ayasekawa, given that I merely maintain a work relationship with Renji…"

Yumichika pursed his lips thoughtfully at Byakuya's attempt to sidestep whatever crazy idea was undoubtedly running through the other man's head. "You're right," he admitted after a moment.

Shuuhei blinked. "He is?"

Byakuya blinked too. "I am?"

Ayasekawa nodded solemnly. "You _aren't_ qualified to help us with this problem if your relationship with Abarai-san is merely professional."

Byakuya felt a warm wave of relief wash over him. "I'm right."

"Therefore, I think it's not only your responsibility as a captain but as someone who Abarai cares for and respects, to rectify that very serious problem."

Wave effectively smashed. "Come again?"

Yumichika beamed, looking very self-satisfied with his deductions. "Naturally, only after you get to know him on a more personal level, will you be better equipped to aid us in our quest to help Renji."

Byakuya stared. "Erm…"

"And surely, as a good and wise man, you would only wish to help those who serve under you to the best of your ability. I do believe that this is the most natural way in which you can contribute to the solving of the problem."

"I…that is, erm…"

Yumichika clapped his hands together. "Then it's settled! We will put Renji's loneliness on the backburner for now, until Kuchiki-taichou can get a better grasp of the situation. He'll need to spend a lot of time in the next few weeks with Renji outside of just work, of course, but as a good and just captain, I don't see how such a small sacrifice would be a problem."

Byakuya felt the horror beginning to creep back into his bones. "I…"

"You truly are a wonderful man, Kuchiki-taichou. You live up to not only your family's prestige but to that of the entire Gotei-13 and all its captains as well."

"Er…thank you."

Byakuya highly suspected his mind of having shut off some time ago, in order to preserve his sanity. What he _wanted_ to say was….

"TAICHOU!"

It was like it had been completely on cue. Yumichika didn't even bat a feathery brow as Renji's scream split the air between them, the redhead appearing in the doorway with a shout, frazzled and breathing hard. The redhead looked around the room like he expected some sort of trap to jump out at him and devour him.

Byakuya remembered himself enough to be indignant at the intrusion into his home. "Renji…"

"How convenient!" Yumichika exclaimed with a fluttering laugh. "Isn't this _convenient_, darling?" he repeated to Shuuhei, who was looking forlornly at the cookies he was no longer allowed to have any more of.

"Er…yeah. Convenient!"

Yumi smiled. "Well, I suppose we should let you get to work then, Kuchiki-taichou? Thank you _so much_ for your time today. We'll leave you and Renji to yourselves then."

The fifth chair stood and tossed his head with an air of royalty that Byakuya thought _might just_ have outshone his own.

Shuuhei scrambled up to follow after, grinning and winking at Renji as the two passed him.

"Kuchiki-taichou?" Ayasekawa called back before he was out of sight.

"Um, yes?"

"I'm counting on you, sir."

Byakuya would have said something, except that at that moment, Ayasekawa reached backwards with a foot and very smoothly, kicked Renji inside.

The sixth division vice-captain gave an indignant squawk and fell forward, crashing right into his very confused, very horrified captain.

The door was promptly shut after him.

**END**


	273. The Shame of Defeat

**273.**

**Title:** The Shame of Defeat  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru, (implied) IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count:** 982  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of. Some CRACK tho.   
**Summary:** Companion drabble to #270 (Creating a Monster) and vaguely related to #145 (I Know a Hot Guy who Swallowed a Fly)- Ikkaku is exhausted.  
**Dedication:** anikkabaka for the really cute fanart!  
**A/N: **Because I felt like crack.

* * *

It was about the second or third time seeing Ikkaku fall asleep while Yachiru was chewing on his head when Kenpachi figured that maybe something was wrong with Madarame.

Being naturally concerned, the eleventh division captain marched over to his dozing subordinate and promptly flicked him right between the eyebrows. Hard.

Ikkaku snorted and woke up with a startled yelp. "The…what? Er, taichou?"

It took approximately two seconds for him to realize that his head was being chewed on.

"Argh, goddammit Yachiru, get off, I mean it!"

He swatted ineffectually at the pink-haired vice-captain, who laughed and danced onto Zaraki's shoulder instead, face alight with mischief. "Ken-chan, he's gone stupid!" she announced happily. "Just like you said he would if I'd keep it up enough!"

It figured that Zaraki's warnings only meant Yachiru trying something _more._

Ikkaku scowled, wiping saliva from his scalp. "Aw, shaddup," he grumped, looking more put out about being awake than the kiddy-spit.

Zaraki frowned. "The hell's wrong with you?" he asked, regarding his subordinate critically. Then, "You ain't bein' a chicken-wuss and losin' sleep thinkin' 'bout the mission that's comin' up or anythin' are ya?"

Ikkaku's eyes narrowed. "Course not!" he denied quickly. "Ain't nothing like that, taichou."

"Then the hell's wrong with you?"

Ikkaku's brow furrowed as he wondered about how he could possibly explain that the upcoming mission meant a week away from seireitei, which _also_ meant that he hadn't been getting much sleep lately to make up for that absence.

"Er… well, that is… I've uh…"

"He has bruises all over!" Yachiru exclaimed happily, too impatient to wait for him to finish. "I saw 'em. All up and down his neck and stuff!"

Kenpachi blinked. "You been fightin'?" he asked, suddenly looking more interested in Madarame's life.

Ikkaku's hastily pulled his gi higher over his neck. "Er… suppose you could say that, taichou."

"You're winnin', right?"

"Er… ain't exactly losin'."

Zaraki's eye gleamed. "Yeah? Your opponents hard to beat or somethin'?"

"Er… not at the end, with any luck."

Zaraki blinked. Then seemed to accept what Madarame was saying. "Sounds good. Though ya don't gotta be so tired. Seems wimpy, if ya ask me."

"Well, if the bastard would just stop jumpin' me every chance he got…" Ikkaku started in his own defense.

"Oh like you _complain_," Yumichika interjected as he passed the three in the hall like some sort of perfectly timed gag in a manga. "Taichou, I hope you know he _likes_ getting jumped every chance he can get," the Ayasekawa added with an evil little twitter.

Madarame vowed to kill him when he had the energy.

Kenpachi watched Ayasekawa flit down the corridor and wondered if maybe he was getting the wrong idea about things if _Yumichika_ thought they were worth laughing over.

He replayed the conversation in his head.

And then… "Hey…"

Ikkaku swallowed.

"Ya didn't really win ya?"

Ikkaku blinked. "_What_?"

"You tied!"

Ikkaku's eyes widened. "NO! I… that is, what I meant to…"

Zaraki read his response wrongly. "What? Ya mean you _lost_?" he accused, looking almost wild. "You know we got a no-lose policy 'round here Ikkaku. And tyin's just as bad, ya know."

"I _know _that… but I didn't…"

"Well damn. I suppose I shoulda figured, since those bruises on your neck can't mean ya _won_. Not all the way."

Zaraki regarded his subordinate disapprovingly. "Geez, I'da expected you to at least come out and admit it or somethin'… maybe train harder or kill yourself to save some face. Sleepin' on the job, feelin' sorry for yourself instead, no wonder ya got your ass kicked like ya did."

"But I…"

"Should kill you right where you stand, shouldn't I? You'd only be so lucky, ya no good rule-breakin' wimp."

It was about there when Ikkaku lost patience with his captain and apparently, the very small amount of faith Zaraki had in his third chair's abilities.

"I didn't just tie sir, I completely lost sir," he drawled, cleaning his ear with his little finger. "Got my ass kicked hard. A coupla times."

"Che. Ain't nothin' to be proud over, ya little twerp. How'd it happen? The guy you fight really that strong?"

"Vice-captain class death god, sir. Real pretty like. Blonde with rosy cheeks and a nice smile. Jumped me as I was entering my own home, sir. Was dark, so I couldn't see. Got tackled as I was takin' my shoes off."

Kenpachi blinked. "In your home? That don't…"

"'Fore I knew it I was on the ground with my pants round my ankles. Tried ta fight back sir, but I was pinned and before I could do anythin' about it, my cock was in his mouth and that's pretty much when I surrendered, sir…"

Kenpachi, eye wide with horror, reached up and promptly clamped his hands over Yachiru's ears. "The hell is _wrong _with you!" he hissed, cheeks ever so slightly pink.

Ikkaku stared back levelly. "The hell's wrong with _you,_ taichou?"

"Goddamn, Madarame, if ya were just bein' oversexed you coulda at least been subtle about it or somethin'," Zaraki chastised, keeping a firm hold though Yachiru was squirming impatiently between his hands now.

Ikkaku blinked. "Huh?"

Kenpachi struggled a little more with Yachiru. "Goddammit, took me _weeks_ to convince her roosters ain't made for bein' swallowed the _last _time shit like this got brought up," the captain muttered, glaring hard at his subordinate. "Che. You'n Yumichika shouldn't be allowed near kids, ya bastards. Yer both horrible influences and I oughta… OW! Fuckin' _shit_ Yachiru next time ya bite me I'm biting you right back, ya got that, brat? See if I don't take a good chunka meat outta your hide. God _damn_!"

Yachiru promptly ignored him and waved at Ikkaku excitedly. "Ne, Baldy-head, did the guy you fought _really _swallow a whole chicken!"

Kenpachi slapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh fuckin' hell."

**END**


	274. Stained

**274. **

**Title:** Stained  
**Rating:** PG-13 for innuendo?  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchimaruxKira, Renji, Iba, Shuuhei  
**Word Count:** 270  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Kira spills milk.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- dude, a GinxKira community is genius. LOVE!  
**A/N: **Not as prony as I wanted to write for the comm, but the best I could do for now. --;; SOWWY!

* * *

The moment he spilled milk all over the lap of his hakama, he knew that today would be a particularly trying day at the office.

Not just because he apparently couldn't feed himself without making a mess, but also (and mostly) because his friends were-

"Damn, Kira. Your captain really works you, huh?"

"Man. You can scrub and scrub but that shit just don't come out in the end, does it?"

"Wait what're you guys talkin' about? I don't get…oh. Eeuw."

Perverts.

They were all perverts. Every single one of them.

Kira flushed as they all stared at him, and tried to (unsuccessfully) shield the front of his pants with his hands when he felt a little bit violated by their looks. "It's… it's not…"

Iba grinned. "What, not his?"

Renji smirked. "Yours?" He whistled appreciatively.

Shuuhei blinked. And then said, "Oh. Eeuw."

Kira's blush deepened, somehow. "It's milk. It's just milk!" he insisted, voice a bit shaky as they all stood around and grinned at him.

"Milk? I'll _bet _it is."

"Heh. The _sour_ kind?"

"Wait, what the hell…oh. _Eeuw_."

Kira sighed and began drying himself off with a napkin, trying to calm his burning cheeks.

As he did, he told himself he had no reason to be embarrassed. They all were just perverts and the stains they were looking at were due to spilled milk and nothing else.

Just. Milk.

Because Kira knew for a fact that Ichimaru-taichou was always very careful about those sorts of things.

He comforted himself with the knowledge that the stains they were right about were only on the _insides_ of his uniform.

**END**


	275. Hide and Seek

**275.**

**Title:** Hide-and-Seek  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Urahara, YoruichixSoi Fong  
**Word Count:** 478  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for all of the involved characters' back stories. And OOC all over the freakin' place.  
**Summary:** Urahara and Yoruichi grew up playing games together.  
**Dedication:** Beck's request, sort of. I forgive you for not doing it on my lj-thread like everyone else. :P  
**A/N: **I am obviously already out of practice. --;;

* * *

They'd grown up playing games together; ones unfit for a noble princess but ones that had made her laugh nonetheless, had made them both dirty and sweaty and flushed with joy when they were done.

Her favorite had always been tag.

He'd liked hide-and-seek best, and she supposed that was just fitting somehow. He liked to disappear and reappear hours later, after he'd secured his victory and she'd called out in frustration that she was going to kick his ass if he didn't come out _now_.

She never did make good on that threat, though a lot of the time she'd wanted to.

She supposed that she'd been far too relieved to see him reappear at those moments to remember her initial frustration with his ability to make himself scarce.

And besides, as an adult, those memories had always been some of her fondest. Looking back and remembering the way Kisuke would pull at her hair and dance off with that secret smile of his still made her grin even though she was all grown up now, perhaps more than anything else. He was always challenging her in those days, always telling her with those laughing eyes that princess or not, the Shihouin name meant nothing to him so long as she wasn't able to catch him.

They'd grown up playing together like that, and he had always been her closest friend. Sometimes, her closest family.

But how did you explain that to someone who was your closest something-else?

She hadn't known how to answer when Soi Fong had asked, very tightly, why Yoruichi had chosen to leave the way she had.

Why she'd chosen _him._

And the Shihouin princess hadn't had an answer to that, at least not one that would have made sense to anyone other than herself.

She'd known, even back then, that he would have been fine with or without her help. Because that was just how he was.

But she supposed that in that moment when he'd come to her, talking about going away, the old fear had set in once again, the one he'd always teased her about when they were young.

And she'd seized on to the opportunity to help him without a second thought.

Because if he wanted to disappear forever for _real_, it would only be okay if she knew where to find him first.

She didn't think it was an answer that would make sense to Soi Fong. It hardly made sense to her. So when the younger girl had asked, all Yoruichi could do was hold the other woman close and say, "I'm sorry."

On the bright side, she knew where to find Kisuke this time, whenever she felt the need to kick his ass for disappearing on her.

She wondered if she could get Soi Fong to see the appeal in that one of these days.

**END**


	276. Hyper

**276.**

**Title:** Hyper  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 478  
**Warning/s:** No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Yachiru had too much energy on her _own._  
**Dedication:** luneetsoleil- because she makes awesome icons and I've been negligent in my thanks for those.   
**A/N: **I admit that the image I painted of Yachiru in this one scared me a little bit. But maybe my mind just works in weirder ways when I'm in TX. O.o

* * *

Kenpachi glared at his gathered division members dangerously. "I find out the bastard that did this to her, he's dead. You idiots hear me? _Dead_."

The eleventh division gulped collectively, the only sound coming from them in the otherwise eerily silent quad.

Ikkaku rubbed at the back of his neck and moved forward, clearing his throat apprehensively. "Um…taichou?"

Zaraki whirled to face his third chair, who had been standing behind him with a tsking Yumichika. "The hell you want, Madarame?"

Ikkaku took a step back at his leader's tone. "Well ya see… it uh, it happened like this, taichou. Some of the fellas earlier were just um…well, you know. Messin' with some of those fourth division guys. All friendly like. A joke, really. Just, you know…"

"Stealin' their stuff and givin' 'em wedgies?" Kenpachi supplied, eye trained unmoving on Ikkaku's nervous face.

"Er. Yeah. Well… so. They were stealin' their stuff, and stuff… and fukutaichou just happened to er, see. You know how excited she gets when she um…sees anyone playin' a game or somethin'."

"Yeah." Kenpachi's responded lowly, voice flat. "And?"

"She thought it was candy, I _swear_."

Zaraki scowled and pointed to Yachiru, who he'd had to tie to a pole in the middle of the courtyard after a whirlwind chase/battle through the eleventh division offices. "CANDY!"

Ikkaku winced. "Yeah. But it er…turned out to be one of those energy-restorin' things those fourth division punks are always carryin' and…well..." the third chair gestured to the slightly psychotic looking vice-captain, who was murmuring at a hundred words per minute while trying to squirm her way out of the chains Kenpachi had wrestled onto her at great danger to his own life.

Both captain and third chair regarded her for a moment.

Then Kenpachi sighed, looking exhausted. "She broke one of my ribs."

Ikkaku blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Er…it's um, a good thing you got her under control when you did, huh, taichou?" Ikkaku offered lamely, just glad that he'd been _gone_ when the chaos had come sweeping into the eleventh division headquarters.

Zaraki grunted and turned back to his assembled corps. "Alright, forget it. The assholes that gave her the damn pill gotta watch her 'til it's out of her system, hear me?"

"Yessir!"

The eleventh division leader rubbed at his temple with one hand and waved dismissively with the other. "Uh… and all you other idiots go get medical attention if ya ain't bled to death already. I'm gonna take a nap."

The division collapsed in relief and limped off towards the medical ward.

Kenpachi retired to his quarters hoping to whatever deity was listening that those chains would hold for a few more hours.

At least long enough so he could get a few quality hours of sleep in.

He winced.

She'd broken his damn _rib._

Any other day and he might've been proud about that.

**END**


	277. Descriptors

**277.**

**Title:** Descriptors  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou  
**Word Count:** 198  
**Warning/s: **Vagueish spoilers for the Soul Society arc. VERY vagueish.  
**Summary:** Hanatarou draws a lot of attention these days.  
**Dedication:** jen- for that line/drabble meme thing on my lj.  
**A/N: **The request was Hanatarou in 10 words. This is what I came up with? --;; IF YOU COUNT THEM, THEY ARE THERE. XD

* * *

"He's a_ hero_, didn't you know?"

"He's a _cute _hero."

"Looks a bit _tired_ though."

"And kind of _small_ to be a hero, don't you think?"

"_Sickly_, even."

"No, he's _adorable_!"

"I mean, what a _sweet_ smile, right?"

"Okay, maybe he is cute. But he still looks pretty damn _fragile_."

"At least it's a _pretty_-type fragile. Wonder who that big, ugly guy is with him though."

Ganjyu bristles at that and slings an arm over Hanatarou's oblivious shoulder before turning to the not-so-subtle gossipers around them, glaring hard. "He's _taken_, assholes!" he announces, squeezing Yamada closer to him.

Hanatarou makes an odd squeaking noise and asks, face pressed up against the side of Ganjyu's chest, "Ganjyu-san…what's the matter?"

Ganjyu looks down at him, at those great big, confused eyes, and sighs, feeling his annoyance drain away at the sight. "Everyone thinks you're cute, stupid."

Hanatarou blushes. "Eh? R-really?"

Ganjyu feels his own cheeks turn pink in response. He looks away from the little death god. "They're right."

Hanatarou, still flushed, manages a smile. "As long as Ganjyu-san thinks so."

The larger man finds himself grinning at that, and turning around again, he smirks triumphantly at the onlookers.

_Taken._

**END**


	278. Teamwork

**278.**

**Title:** Teamwork  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly KyuorakuxUkitakexIse  
**Word Count:** 382  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but OOC weirdness.  
**Summary:** Kyouraku's dreams come true. Sort of.  
**Dedication:** andrewjp, who is very persistent.  
**A/N: **The request by andrewjp on my lj was_: Shunsui/Nanao/Ukitake OT3! Prompt..."drunk"_. I think this will be hard because I just don't believe in ShunsuixNanao myself, but it's worth a shot. At least Ukitake's in there. --;;

* * *

He's rolling drunk right now, giggling and making eyes at them both as he says very sweetly, "I'm not drunk."

Nanao and Ukitake share a look and sighing, they set to work.

Both are well practiced at dealing with Kyouraku as he is now, either separately or together.

Nanao smiles and bats her eyelashes at him and while he's distracted by her unexpected flirtations, Ukitake deftly snatches his sake bottle and dish from his hands, winking seductively when Shunsui protests. "Oi…ain't done with that yet, Jyuu-chan!"

"Maa, I think you are, Shun," Ukitake soothes, reaching over and touching the other man's face. "Don't you want to be?"

"Taichou… please come with us," Nanao murmurs sweetly.

Shunsui promptly forgets about the alcohol.

They lure him to his bed with subtle touches and inviting smiles. He grins back smarmily and thinks he's definitely hit the jackpot tonight because two of the most beautiful creatures he's ever seen want to spend the night with him.

The minute he is in his quarters and the door is locked behind them-

"I'll undress him, Ise-san. Please rearrange his work schedule for tomorrow. I don't think he'll be up until noon," Ukitake instructs in that very captain-like voice he has (and wasn't using just a moment ago).

He looks at the vice-captain apologetically.

Nanao, upright and stern once more, nods and adjusts her glasses. "Yessir. Thank you for the trouble, sir."

She turns around and marches off.

Kyouraku makes a noise of dissatisfaction when he hears the door open and close. "Oi… Nanao-chan…where're…you…goin'?"

Jyuushirou rolls up his sleeves, looking very business-like about the whole thing. "Don't worry about Ise-san, please, Shun."

"Bwa? Why?"

Ukitake ties his hair up and begins to yank rather unceremoniously at Shunsui's jacket. "Because it's time to get you cleaned up, my friend."

Shunsui manages a grin at that, though a part of him is able to note that Jyuushirou is no longer smiling like he was out in the hallway a second ago. "Ne… we gettin' naked, Jyuu-chan?" Kyouraku asks anyway, waggling his eyebrows as Ukitake very professionally removes his sandals.

"No. Not… quite."

As the white-haired man says that, something in Ukitake's eyes manages to worry the very small part of Shunsui's brain that is still a little bit sober.

He swallows.

**END**


	279. Late

**279.**

**Title:** Late  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **implied ChadxIshidaxIchigo OT3  
**Word Count:** 247  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but you know, OT3ness.  
**Summary:** The boys are late for class.  
**Dedication:** requested by jadestellar.   
**A/N: **Another result of that line/drabble meme thing. This time the request was: _I'll love to see some Ishida/Ichigo/Chad. Prompt: tardiness_. Hope this fulfills your request!

* * *

When Chad is late to class, the teacher doesn't really say anything, sweat-dropping and telling the large boy to please take his seat quickly so that they can get on with the lesson. She thinks to herself that Chad probably would have been on time if he worried about things in general, and knows there was no malicious intent behind his tardiness. Chad bows and apologizes and does as he's told.

When Ishida is late to class soon after, the teacher is surprised but supposes that Uryuu is light years ahead of everyone in his grade anyway and allows for it because it's never happened _before_. Ishida very calmly adjusts his glasses and apologizes, stating that he had an urgent matter to take care of for a friend. He takes his seat, smiles at Chad, and concentrates on his lesson.

When Ichigo is late right after Ishida and Chad had been, the teacher scowls and turns around, saying, "Very nice of you to join us, Kurosaki-san. Fall asleep on the roof?"

Ichigo scowls and turns a little red. "Er… somethin' like that."

"Honestly," she begins with a disapproving look. "Be more responsible, Ichigo. This is your life we're talking about, you know. Your future."

"Yeah, sorry," he mutters, moving quickly to his seat. He glares at a smiling Chad and Ishida as he passes.

He finds his seat and takes out his book, thinking the hell if he lets those two smug bastards finish first next time.

**END**


	280. React

**280. **

**Title:** React  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Unohana, Hitsugaya, Byakuya, Kurotsuchi (could be seen as slightly KenxUno?)  
**Word Count:** 588  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi knows how to push everyone's buttons just right. Almost.  
**Dedication:** tsukishine- you got me on that Kira line!  
**A/N: **Another of those line/drabble meme results where I guessed _wrong._ The request was: "_KenUno + buttons"_. This um, _sort of_ works? Kind of?

* * *

"Hey Kurotsuchi… still limpin' after that fight with the Quincy, huh? Think you'll get demoted? Ain't no captain of the Gotei-13 that can keep his head held high after losin' to one of them pansy archers, I'll bet."

Mayuri glowered at Kenpachi but slunk off, muttering promises of vengeance once he was fully recovered.

Kenpachi grinned and thought that there was nothing better in the universe than pushing old Kuro-kookie's buttons. Well, maybe fighting. But that wasn't the point.

"Woah there, pretty boy, you allowed outta the hospital yet? Careful, you don't look so good. Sure you want people seein' you out like this? Appearances are everythin', ain't they?"

Byakuya scowled, huffed, and marched off down the hallway, somehow appearing regal even in his hospital gown and with his hair limp and in his face.

Zaraki watched him go, eye gleaming. Getting Kuchiki-hime's panties in a twist was almost as good as messing with Mayuri.

Rounding the corner, he grunted as someone walked into him, and looking down, found Hitsugaya Toushirou glaring back up at him even as he limped around on a pair of crutches. "Sorry there, twelve-inches, didn't see ya."

The tenth division captain's brow furrowed. "You…"

"Sorry, what's that? Can't hear ya. Distance is too damn far, I guess, huh? Talk to me when I don't gotta siddown before we can speak face ta face."

The young captain fumed.

Zaraki decided that pushing the young genius's buttons was pretty damn fun too.

Especially since they were all too damn weak to take him on and have a chance of surviving. It gave him an air of supreme confidence as he strolled down the halls of the fourth division medical facility.

Really, those loser weaklings were no match for him. No question about it. Not than anyone really was, but not them especially.

Right now, he ruled this building. And the moment he found the exit to this damn rat maze, he'd go back out and rule the rest of seireitei too.

He rounded the next corner and felt his face split into a hugely satisfied smile. "Jackpot."

He headed towards the door.

"Zaraki-taichou."

Inches from his goal, he paused at the sound of a quietly familiar voice and turned towards it very slowly; as if taking more time to face his new opponent would somehow make something, _anything_ replace who he knew was standing there.

When he was fully turned, he found himself facing the calm countenance of the fourth division captain. "Erm…yeah?"

Unohana looked back at him serenely. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Er… gettin' a snack?"

"All you have to do is ring a bell if you're hungry; you know that, Zaraki-taichou."

He frowned. "Yeah… well." He glared at her, trying to maybe intimidate her into leaving him alone.

She looked back at him levelly.

"Er… maybe I wanted to fix myself a sandwich or somethin'," he finished lamely. "Your cooks suck," he added just to be contrary, hoping to maybe piss her off just a little bit even though he knew exactly where this was going.

She smiled benevolently at him. "Please come with me."

He sighed. Never a reaction. Nada. Nothing. "Yeah. Well. Do I still get my damn sandwich?"

"Of course. I'll make it for you myself."

He huffed but followed her back towards his room anyway. "I guess that's okay."

He comforted himself with the decision to maybe go and bug Kuro-kookie some more later. After he'd had that sandwich.

At least he had _that_ bastard's number.

**END**


	281. The Bodyguard

**281.**

**Title:** The Bodyguard  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou  
**Word Count:** 593  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Ganjyu is Hanatarou's ardent protector.  
**Dedication:** for miuuchan.  
**A/N: **Another person stumped me on that line guessing drabble. The request this time was just a nice, generic "GanjyuxHanatarou" request. So… here we go.

* * *

Ganjyu likes to be his protector, and Hanatarou supposes that's alright.

It's just how the other man is, really. It makes Ganjyu happy when he can save Hanatarou from an eleventh division bully by breaking the bastard's nose or even better, take on five of Hanatarou's tormentors at once in a brawl and come out bloody but victorious, Yamada's reputation and honor properly defended.

If Ganjyu didn't look so sparklingly happy coming out of those situations, Hanatarou thinks he would definitely tell the other man that he's good at defending himself, really, and that if Ganjyu would just let him get into his pouch, he could down those would-be bullies quietly and efficiently and without Ganjyu having to suffer anything like a cut or a scrape or… a black eye.

But Ganjyu looks so happy about it as he sits with a pack of ice on his face while Hanatarou disinfects his cuts that the little shinigami can't bring himself to say anything.

"Heh. I got those bastards good, huh? See if they ever pick on you again."

Hanatarou offers a smile and dabs gently with a cotton ball at the split across Ganjyu's knuckles. "You were very brave," he assures the grinning Shiba gently.

"Yeah well. Couldn't let him just get away with that, ya know?"

Hanatarou sighs fondly and reaches up, pulling the icepack away from his boyfriend's face and examining the bruise with a little frown. "Does it hurt very much?"

"Che. Course not. I ain't a wimp you know."

"Of course not," Hanatarou assures him quickly. "You showed everyone that you're very strong." He beams.

"Yeah, well." Ganjyu turns a little bit pink at the excess of praise and pushes the icepack back over his eye. "Ya don't gotta say it like that," he mutters, looking away.

Hanatarou smiles again and cups Ganjyu's cheek, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the corner of his self-proclaimed protector's mouth. "Just keep holding that there and the swelling should go down soon," he instructs softly. "I'm going to go see to those guys…"

Ganjyu snorts, but doesn't stop the fourth division death god because he knows that it's still his job to tend to any injured shinigami he comes across.

Hanatarou quietly makes his way back into the bar and kneels beside the first of Ganjyu's groaning victims.

He digs around in his bag and gets to work.

Feeling hands on his chest, the patient groans and growls, cracking his non-swollen eye open and saying, "Hey, aren't you the bastard that…"

Just as he's looking to get belligerent again, Hanatarou takes out exactly what he needs from his supply bag and without batting an eye, drugs the bastard so thoroughly he won't be able to remember his own name for the next day or two.

Very calmly, he continues his work.

Every person watching (who isn't unconscious) decides right about then, that between the brutal bodily beating from the boyfriend and the threat of incapacitating drugs shortly thereafter, it just isn't worth picking on Yamada ever again.

When everyone stops picking on Hanatarou altogether not long after the incident, Ganjyu takes the credit for it, stating that he scared all of them off with the power of his own two fists.

Though truthfully, if asked, the bullies are more afraid of the medicines that make a patient lose control of their bowel functions for six to eight hours after being dosed than they are of Shiba Ganjyu's powerful fists.

But all the same, Hanatarou doesn't mind letting Ganjyu believe otherwise.

**END**


	282. Fear Not

**282.**

**Title:** Fear Not  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxKira   
**Word Count:** 426  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but um, some dark content.  
**Summary:** Ichimaru teaches Kira to not be afraid.  
**Dedication:** for antiparallel- I would have written it for you anyway. sends love  
**A/N: **She stumped me on the line drabble! I really am bad at it, aren't I? XD Here goes then.

* * *

His captain taught him to not fear pain.

In his academy days he'd abhorred it, did anything he could to avoid it. He'd worked harder and longer than anyone else because he didn't want to have anything to do with hurt or pain or blood.

And then Ichimaru Gin taught him that there was nothing to fear.

He'd smiled and wrapped his fingers around his vice-captain's throat with one strong hand that first night, that first lesson. Kira still remembered how it had hurt. But for the first time, under those very hands, there wasn't _just_ pain, but the ghost of something else, something that made Izuru's blood thrum in his ears, made his breath quicken and catch, made sweat bead on his skin and a perverse throbbing stir deep and hot inside his stomach.

And so Gin had taught him on that first night, as he choked the air out of Kira's lungs, that pain was not scary at all.

Afterwards, Ichimaru was kind and petted his hair, as his little vice-captain sighed and shuddered, shattered against his captain's chest.

"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it, Kira-chan?" Gin had asked gently, licking his fingertips as he cleaned them up.

Kira had shaken his head, unable to talk because his voice had been too raw, his throat too injured. He'd clutched at his neck. There had been purple, finger-shaped bruises in the morning.

The next time, Ichimaru told him, "It's for your own good," looking kind and benevolent even when he'd bit down on Kira's shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

He'd lapped it all up like a cat, and Kira had learned that night, sore and panting in the circle of Gin's arms, that blood was nothing to fear either.

Ichimaru Gin was the one who taught Kira Izura not to fear. He'd shown his naïve little vice-captain how pain could be felt with other emotions, and now, whenever Kira bled or Kira bruised, he shuddered too, his breath caught too, his skin grew hot and his knees grew weak, too.

And whenever that happened he limped to his captain's room and asked, with shaky voice, if Ichimaru-taichou couldn't please show him again, that other emotion that pain could bring.

Gin would always smile and welcome his sweet little vice-captain into his arms without hesitation, petting his hair and murmuring, "Of course. Now take a deep breath and close your eyes."

Gin was the one who first taught young Kira that pain could be the most excruciating of pleasures in all the world.

**END**


	283. Serpent's Song

**283.**

**Title:** Serpent's Song  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Gin, Rukia  
**Word Count:** 350  
**Warning/s: **Er, not any important spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** There's something about Ichimaru's voice that stops her in her tracks.   
**Dedication:** for hoshitachi.  
**A/N: **Another line guess prize from that meme. I am obviously very bad at guessing lines from my own stories. y The prompt was: _"I want Gin x Rukia ... yeah I know that's weird . (but I just love the two of them so much) ... you want a prompt? music."_ Erm… I hope this is okay?

* * *

He hums whenever he walks and it sends chills down her spine every time, makes her freeze in her tracks and steals the breath from her lungs.

She knows that there is nothing in his cheerful tune that should prompt the desire to run in her every time.

There's nothing about the gentle lilting of his voice that should make her feel as if the air is being choked from her throat by phantom fingers.

But it does.

Yet all the same, she finds herself unable to move every time she hears that happy song, the music of his heart. All she can do is listen, her heart pounding in her ears, watching frozen as he passes, the smiling captain of the third division.

He greets her when he sees her, asks her how she is doing and how her brother is. His voice is very much like his song had been, his words full of a rhythmic charm and melodic good intentions.

She doesn't know what it is about him that makes her blood run cold, what there is behind his innocent questions and friendly greetings that seem to render her breathless.

"Aah, Rukia-chan. How are you this fine day, ne?"

She clutches her hands to her chest, unable to suppress the shudder that wracks her body at the sound of his gentle inquiries. "Fine, Ichimaru-taichou. Thank you for asking."

His grin broadens, and it feels like he's actually reached out to strike her. "Maa, no need to be so formal, huh? We're friends aren't we?"

She swallows. "Ah, yessir."

"How is your brother?"

"Fine, sir."

"That's good. I greatly respect Kuchiki-taichou, you know."

"I… I'll send him your greetings, sir."

"You do that."

"Y-yes."

"Well then, I'll be off. It was wonderful to see you again, Rukia-chan."

"Y-you too, sir."

He walks off humming again, throwing her one last, lingering smile over his shoulder.

She watches him go, finding herself unable to calm the pounding of her heart until many hours later.

But even then, the memory of his song still feels like fingers wrapped around her throat.

**END**


	284. Translation

**284.**

**Title:** Translation  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkaxIzu  
**Word Count:** 377  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers (sort-of) for what happened in the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Kira's learning how to decipher Madarame-speak.  
**Dedication:** swinku and anikkabaka for being the two other IkkaxIzu fanworks makers in the universe. It's like we're a family connected by ardent love for crack pairings that no one else understands. OH THE BEAUTY AND THE DRAMA OF OUR PREDICAMENT. XD  
**A/N: **This one is just for my own amusement, really, and not in anyway connected to the meme I've been slaving away at. XD whispersActually, it's really a way to wheedle more art out of the people it's dedicated to.

* * *

Ikkaku isn't very good at talking. He's the type of person who believes that actions speak louder than words anyway, and really, he'll always find a way to inadvertently pick the stupidest way to say something out of the millions of possible different ways to say it.

But Kira likes that he's all action, because his memories of Ichimaru Gin are full of pretty words and wonderful lies that all make his heart ache when he thinks about them.

He'd been his captain's "Precious little Kira-chan," his "Sweet Izu," and his "Favorite kawaii-fukutaichou."

Now, to Ikkaku, he is at worst, "wimp," and "idiot," and "geez, stop that, will ya?" and at best, "sweet god don't look at me like that".

Ikkaku's just not very smooth with words, and Kira appreciates that in lieu of his past with Gin. And he finds himself learning how to read the other death god better and better as days pass anyway.

It's all a matter of translating what his lover is saying into what he means.

For instance, a grumbled "You don't gotta do this all the time, ya know," actually translates to Ikkaku's way of saying "thank you" when Kira wakes early each morning to make him his lunch.

And a "Don't be such a wimp," is really, "Kick that bastard's ass. I believe in your strength."

"Idiot, don't be so mushy like that," really means, "never stop, baby," and "geez, stop that, will ya?" translates to something along the lines of "alright, you win, I'm sorry."

And Kira's favorite, "Sweet god, don't look at me like that," means, "I'm three seconds away from jumping you, brace yourself."

It's not very complicated at all once you get the hang of how things translate, and so Kira smiles and understands and doesn't do what Ikkaku says but only what the other death god means.

Ikkaku knows he's doing it too. And to show his appreciation, he blushes and looks anywhere but at the blonde, telling Kira, "You'n me are the biggest idiots on the face of the planet, aren't we?"

Kira knows that what he means is, "you and I don't belong with anyone else in the world but each other."

So he smiles, takes Madarame's hand, and whispers, "I know."

**END **


	285. Life's Lessons

**285.**

**Title:** Life Lessons  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Hitsugaya  
**Word Count:** 729  
**Warning/s: **Small spoilers for things that happened in the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Toushirou chronicles the things he's learned from others as a captain.  
**Dedication:** requested by flash-indie  
**A/N: **The request was: _"Hitsugaya-centric, with the gotei 13. prompt: It takes a village to raise a child."_

_

* * *

_

Being the youngest of the captains, Hitsugaya Toushirou naturally learned a lot of things from his senior officers in the Gotei-13, all of which he felt could be used to make him a better death god and a more competent leader.

Unfortunately, most of those things he learned were… things _not _to do.

He learned from Yamamoto-soutaichou that one shouldn't spend _too_ much time in the onsen if one didn't want to pass out in a rather undignified manner as a result. He also learned that perhaps doing as such with one's vice-captain would also lead to the birth of some rather embarrassing rumors regarding one's relationship with said vice-captain.

He learned from Soi Fong that being short forever was not an attractive option, especially if one's vice-captain was much taller and prone to dropping crumbs and boogers and etc. wherever he went. As a result, Toushirou drank plenty of milk every morning and hoped for a growth spurt soon.

He learned from Ichimaru Gin that only a very select group of people could openly read pornography in public and not be teased or harassed about it. Though the young tenth division captain still had no idea how the creepy bastard had pulled _that_ off.

He learned from Unohana-taichou that not getting severely injured in battle meant not being covered in spit after her spooky sword-spirit was made to swallow its patients. While it healed things faster, the saliva was still kind of eeuwy. And took quite a while to wash out of one's hair. The memory made him take even more care than normal in any battle, no matter how seemingly small.

He learned from Aizen Sousuke that Hinamori liked the soft-spoken, bookish type of guy and that he probably ought to get over that childhood crush of his because there was no way he was going to turn out like that ever.

He learned from Kuchiki Byakuya that following the rules to the letter all the time meant the possibility of getting your ass kicked all over the place for something you didn't really believe in the first place. Toushirou made a mental note to follow his instincts once in a while instead. He also decided that he would order Matsumoto to smack him in the head if he ever got as prissy as Kuchiki-taichou about anything _ever_.

He learned from Komamura-taichou that bigger didn't always mean better and worked to hone his skill as well as grow taller.

He learned from Kyouraku-taichou that when a girl said no it meant no and that alcohol made one fall asleep in all manner of undignified positions in random, public spaces. Though to be honest, Toushirou believed he never would have womanized or boozed like Shunsui even without ever having seen the eighth division leader three-sheets to the wind and sexually harassing Ise.

He learned from Tousen Kaname that sight wasn't always a blessing, especially that time Iba had lost his pants. Tousen was happily free of the mentally scarring image while Toushirou still had nightmares on occasion, of Tetsuzaemon's horrific underwear.

He learned from Zaraki Kenpachi that stupid strength was still, in the end, stupid. He spoke to Hyourinmaru as often as he could and his sword was relieved for having a master that was neither insane nor negligent. Though a secret part of Toushirou still wanted to maybe one day be strong enough to require an infinite-energy sucking monster to contain his reiatsu. But he didn't tell anyone about it.

He learned from Kurotsuchi Mayuri that…well…that he didn't want to grow up to be creepy. That was pretty much it on that end.

And from Ukitake Jyuushirou, he learned that sometimes honor had to be sacrificed for the sake of preserving life because while honor could be regained, death meant the end.

But perhaps, most important of all the things he'd learned while in service as a captain of the Gotei-13, was from Matsumoto Rangiku, who taught him that…

…the laws of gravity could indeed, be broken.

When he very seriously told her this, she thwapped him over the head and told him he'd been a lot cuter back when he was younger and didn't know very much about these types of things.

When she put it like that, he decided that it was very likely that he would become the best Gotei-13 captain in seireitei history.

**END**


	286. Boundaries

**286.**

**Title:** Boundaries  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, possible (if you want to see it) Ikkaku+Yumi  
**Word Count:** 431  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei has a burning question to ask Yumichika. Yumichika responds.  
**Dedication:** for mikken, because anyone who writes ShuuxYumi without me having to whore myself out shamelessly to beforehand is AWESOME. hearts  
**A/N: **You heard me. She wrote ShuuxYumi OF HER OWN FREE WILL. That's why we're best friends now. nod Also, inspired by a comment from imparfait on my fic journal. I think I'm too attached to ShuuxYumi to write IkkakuxYumi seriously…sorry! --;;

* * *

"So, you and Ikkaku are pretty close, huh?"

Yumi blinks at the sudden, rather random inquiry. "Yes."

Shuuhei looks at the other man's face as he asks the question and at Yumichika's unaffected reaction, decides that he doesn't want to know the answer _that_ much.

Flushing, he turns away. "Er, never mind."

Yumi cocks his head to the side, curiosity aroused by his lover's unconscious body language. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Hisagi says too quickly.

He catches Yumi's eyes as they narrow suspiciously and winces internally.

"Shuuhei…"

"Yeah?"

"Are you…"

"No." Hisagi cringes. Is that really his voice right now? He sounds four years old. "Er, I mean… am I what?" he tries again, with what he thinks is an admirably level tone.

Yumi crosses his arms. "Why are you asking about me and Ikkaku?"

"Just…curious," Shuuhei says, looking away and rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Since you know…the two've you are so… close."

"And you want to know if…"

Dammit. Trust Yumichika to hit it on the head at the exact moment Shuuhei _doesn't _want him to. "Uh. Maybe."

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

Forever. "Not long."

The eleventh division death god quirks a brow. "And if I said yes?"

Shuuhei frowns. Grits his teeth and manages a, "Then… well. Uh. Good for him. He should only be so lucky."

Yumi laughs at him.

Shuuhei flushes and says, "It ain't funny, asshole."

Later, when a still chuckling Ayasekawa tells Ikkaku about this, his longtime friend's eyes bug ever so slightly and he spits out his beer.

"You told him _what?_" he demands incredulously, wiping dribble from his chin with the back of his hand.

Yumi is delighted by how both of their reactions have been thus far. Smiling, he says, "You heard me."

Ikkaku slaps a hand to his forehead.

He makes a mental note to be on guard for the next few weeks, when Shuuhei tries to _kill him dead _for Ayasekawa's slanderous lies

Yumichika is amused enough about the whole thing that Ikkaku doesn't know whether to be offended or relieved that his best friend finds the idea of them together so laughable.

Shuuhei punches him in the eye the next day. And then looks genuinely surprised at his own actions, immediately apologizing to the bald shinigami with a, "Sorry… I just saw you and it was like, an instinct or something."

At that point—i.e. when his eye is swollen shut-- Ikkaku decides that how he feels about the situation doesn't matter anymore.

Because either way, Yumi's gonna get it.

**END**


	287. idol Worship

**287.**

**Title:** Idol Worship  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IsshinxRyuuken, mentions IsshinxMasaki  
**Word Count:** 297  
**Warning/s: **Er, spoilers for who Ryuuken is I suppose. --;;  
**Summary:** Ryuuken sympathizes with Masaki.   
**Dedication:** laliho- because you're the type of person who doesn't just bring a pairing into the world but also births a fandom. XD  
**A/N: **I don't remember where I saw it, but there was an icon somewhere denouncing IsshinxRyuuken on the basis of the pairing not having a giant poster. My first (probably very insensitive) reaction was… "Um…Ryuuken's not dead." So then I got an idea, and here it is. The weirdest things give me ideas. O.o

* * *

Ryuuken thinks he's more relieved than disturbed when Isshin goes to his wife's memorial poster and converses with it, usually complaining about how "Ryuu-chan doesn't love me this" and "Ryuu-chan is so mean that."

It means he isn't the one who has to listen to Kurosaki's whining.

Though a part of him feels guilty for unleashing the other man on Masaki, who should at least be allowed to rest at this point.

Eventually, it gets to the point where he takes Isshin by the shoulder, saying, "Leave the poor woman alone."

"Masaki doesn't mind!" Isshin insists, gesturing broadly to the shining poster like it's going to nod in agreement any second now.

Ryuuken's eye twitches.

And then a horrible, terrifying thought occurs to him. "You're not…you're not going to put a poster of _me_ up there, are you?"

Isshin looks puzzled at the question. And then he reaches out and pinches the other physician's ass.

The Quincy yelps in a rather undignified manner and jumps sideways. When he regains his equilibrium enough to glare, he does. A lot. "What could have _possibly_ prompted you to respond to my inquiry with _that_?" he demands, looking like he's on the verge of getting huffy.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't dead," Isshin responds—to Ryuuken's horror—in what looks like complete seriousness.

"That makes absolutely no sense, Kurosaki."

Isshin crosses his arms. "You don't get a poster unless you're dead," he announces regally, before turning to the giant portrait and burbling, "Ne, Masaki?"

Ryuuken slaps a palm to his forehead and decides that this is as good an excuse as any for him to aspire to immortality.

He walks off with the beginnings of a massive headache, muttering a thousand apologies to Masaki on her idiot husband's behalf.

**END**


	288. Healing

**288.**

**Title:** Healing  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **hinted at ByakuyaxRenji, Unohana, Kenpachi, (flirting?) Ukitake, Soi Fong (flirting?)  
**Word Count:** 753  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Life in the fourth division hospital after the chaos.  
**Dedication:** requested by chironstar  
**A/N: **I'll admit it feels like it's going to be trouble to try and get these characters all into the same frame together, but I suppose that's the challenge. --;; The request was_: "Well, I was hoping you could write a ByaRen with a little bit of Ukitake x Soi Fon (crack pairing love!) thrown in ... perhaps with a mention of Kenpachi x Unohana (like an offhand comment or something, because those two crack me up)? Actually, Uki x Soi Fon could be the prompt too, if you needed one." _Um… I'll see what I can do…-- ;;

* * *

"Ma'am, I can't find Abarai, fukutaichou!" one of the orderlies exclaims frantically, looking frazzled. "I was supposed to change his bandages five minutes ago but when I went into his room he wasn't there and…"

Unohana reaches out and pats her subordinate on the head calmly. "Try Kuchiki-taichou's room, ne?"

The young girl blinks. "Why would…" and then trails off, blushing. "Oh. You think…"

The captain smiles. "It's worth investigating, don't you think?"

"Yes ma'am!"

Unohana continues on her rounds as her underlings scurry around, and is glad for the propitious timing of today's events when she catches Zaraki Kenpachi in the middle of climbing out of one of her building's windows while scoffing to another eleventh division patient, stating that "Anyone thinks they're strong enough to keep me here, they can go ahead and challenge me, I ain't stayin' another night. Damn needles."

"Zaraki-taichou," she begins, reaching out and grabbing a handful of gi from the small of his back as he's about to disappear. "Please return to your bed. The faster you heal the faster you can leave without the threat of being hunted down, drugged, and dragged back, after all," she explains benevolently, giving a small tug on the material of his clothes.

He turns around, one foot out the window, his feral eye glaring hard at her. "That a threat?"

Unfazed, she looks right back at him. "Procedure."

They stare at each other for a moment.

He's the one to avert his eyes first. "Che. Damn procedures."

His subordinate has the unfortunate luck of being unable to hold in a snort when his captain climbs back through the window, and Unohana has to keep Zaraki from clobbering the other patient. "No violence within these halls please," she reminds him as she calmly pulls the eleventh division captain from the open hallway and back towards his room.

He calls her all manner of heinous things along the way but before long she doesn't have to pull very much anymore.

After depositing him back into his bed and telling him someone will be in to check on him momentarily, she continues towards the check-up wing and finds several patients already waiting for her.

Standard protocol dictates that after involvement in any major battle, all captains are to proceed to the fourth division hospice in order for a full check-up. They are not allowed to return to active duty until issued a full bill of health.

It seems gratuitous at times, that such strong people should be forced to adhere to such strict dictates, but Unohana has found throughout her long tenure here that it is often the strongest people who are most neglectful of their own wellbeing.

She nods in familiar greeting to Ukitake Jyuushirou as she heads to her office, the veteran officer gently soothing an indignant Soi Fong as she complains bitterly about having to be here when she knows perfectly well she is fine.

He tells her, warm and friendly, that no one wants to see her injured and that it's best to be safe about these things, so that if she did sustain something in her fight, it can be tended to now and won't manifest itself sometime down the line and incapacitate her career as a captain. "It would be a shame," he says in that tranquil voice of his, "if someone with such skill should be forced to resign early because she did not keep in perfect health."

Soi Fong huffs and leans back, the younger girl eyeing Jyuushirou with some skepticism. He smiles back, completely genuine, and reaches out to pat her head like they are the best of friends.

She sighs, crosses her arms, and averts her gaze sideways. "Very well."

Unohana shares a secret smile of thanks with Ukitake at that and opens the door to her office, calling over her shoulder, "I'll see you now, Ukitake-san."

He stands, winking at Soi Fong. "It'll be over before you know it, just watch," he says with the confidence of someone who has done this many times. "And since you're much younger and much fitter than me, I'm sure yours will be doubly fast."

The second division captain rolls her eyes at his statement, though the fact that her cheeks redden ever so slightly does not escape the two other captains' notice.

As Unohana escorts Jyuushirou into her office she thinks that even though things are beginning to calm down again in seireitei, it's wonderful that they never seem to calm down _too _much.

**END**


	289. So Pretty and Witty and

**289.**

**Title:** So Pretty and Witty and…  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Keigo, Ikkaku, Yumichika  
**Word Count:** 623  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for up to Ch 206  
**Summary:** The weird new kids spend the night at Keigo's place.  
**Dedication:** JaB- Antique Bakery is AWESOME.  
**A/N: **I just love Antique Bakery. And so I blatantly stole a line and decided that it would totally work for Ayasekawa as well. XD

* * *

Keigo swallowed, watching the two new (weird) kids from school as they made themselves comfortable in his room, the bald one bleeding everywhere and the other one bustling around murmuring like it was the most normal thing in the world that the bald one was bleeding everywhere.

He stared.

"Ne, Asano-saaaaan, I'm going to borrow your bathroom now, 'kay?"

The pretty one—Ayasekawa?—beamed at him.

Momentarily blinded, all he could do was nod.

"Wai!" and then Ayasekawa pranced down the hall, burbling happily about _finally _getting to wash the filth off of him.

"Better not come out naked again, asshole. Nobody but Hisagi wants to see that, ya hear me?" the bald one croaked after his companion belligerently, before coughing up some blood and cursing as it dribbled down his chin.

"Er…maybe we should um…take you to a hospital?" Keigo started again.

"Aw, shaddap. Told you already, 's just a scratch," Ikkaku insisted. "Just lemme get some sleep. Be fine in the mornin'."

"Are you…"

"I'm sure," he insisted again.

"Okay…" Keigo responded, reluctantly giving up on the matter. "Just uh, try not to get blood everywhere. Er…everywhere _else._"

"Che, wiseass. Should be thankin' me for savin' your damn hide." Pause. "Er…get over here'n roll me onto my side, would ya?"

Keigo sighed. Why the hell not at this point, right? After everything he'd witnessed tonight, rolling a half-dead, bald, supposed high-school student onto his side because he didn't have the muscle power right now to do it himself wasn't even in the top five of weird-ass things that had happened this evening.

He got up and moved to push baldy—Madarame?— over as gingerly as he could, succeeding in rolling the injured man up onto his left side.

Madarame grunted in satisfaction. "Thanks. Can't sleep on my damn back. Er, not without bein' drunk first, that is."

"Um…okay."

"Oh, and just 'cuz I sorta like you, even if you're not too quick, best to avert your eyes when Yumi comes into the room outta that shower."

Asano blinked. "Er…is he really going to come out naked?"

Ikkaku scoffed. "'S possible. But even if he don't…what was the term? He's… "a gay of demonic charm"… or somethin' like that. So if you're a little bit, well, _you know_, then it'll probably be dangerous…"

Keigo balked. "I'm not!"

Ikkaku snorted. "Yeah. Sure. Okay. Just warnin' you. Seen it happen way too many times, is all."

Keigo swallowed. "Don't worry. I'm not."

"Well good then."

And then he was snoring.

Keigo stared at the bald guy's back for a little bit after he'd drifted off, feeling strangely indignant about the conversation just ending like that.

Half dead or not, Asano was about to shake him back awake when he couldn't take it anymore, except that his bedroom door burst open before he could.

Ayasekawa, humming happily and all flushed and smooth-looking from the steam, strolled into the bedroom with nothing but a thin towel wrapped low around his waist.

Keigo stared.

Ayasekawa, catching the boy's look of stupid awe as he stepped in, smiled winningly. "The shower was _wonderful_," he purred. "Thanks!"

Maybe Keigo was wrong in thinking that the strangest event of the evening had already come and gone. His throat bobbed. "Uh… I uh… no problem!"

And then he dive-bombed into his bed without waiting a beat, pulling the covers up over his head and curling into a little ball like he was five again and hiding from the boogey man.

Amused, Yumichika twittered and gave a satisfied little toss of his head.

He could practically hear the kid's heart beating a million miles per hour in his chest from all the way across the room.

Yup. He still had it.

**END**


	290. My Greatest Secret Revealed

**290.**

**Title:** My Greatest Secret Revealed  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxIzu  
**Word Count:** 335  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers in this one.  
**Summary:** Loosely related to all the past IkkaIzu I've done- Ikkaku shares something monumental with Kira.  
**Dedication:** swinku- just a few more days of classes, right? ganbatte!  
**A/N: **Because I am now done with all the requests and thus, felt like writing something all on my own just 'cuz it feels like it's been a while (though it hasn't really).

* * *

He looked nervous, which wasn't like him. In turn, it made Kira nervous, which was exactly like him (a long time ago).

He held his breath and looked at Madarame and wondered what it was that had gotten his lover so worked up.

"Uh, say… I got um, I got somethin' I feel I gotta tell ya, Izuru,"

Kira offered a shaky smile. "Sure."

Ikkaku, cheeks slightly red, scratched at the side of his mouth. "Well. Ya see. You'n I…we've…well, you know. For a while now."

"We have."

"So, well… it ain't much, but I just wanted to uh, tell ya… I uh…"

Izuru, heart fluttering as rapid as a rabbit's in his chest upon hearing that, did his best to look supportive. "Yes?"

"Okay… so…" Ikkaku knelt, avoiding eye contact with the blonde as he took one of Kira's hands in his. He coughed. "Uh… just so ya know… I uh…decided to tell ya my most secretest secret today."

The blonde wasn't sure to be relieved, worried, puzzled, or all of the above at the admission. He settled for swallowing and squeezing the other death god's hand gently.

"It's somethin' I ain't ever told anyone. Not taichou, not fukutaichou, not nobody. Hell, Yumi don't even know this."

Izuru's breath caught slightly at the admission. "I'm honored."

Ikkaku looked up then, at the familiar sound of Kira's quietly encouraging voice. "It's 'cuz… well, since you're… and I…really, really, _really_… well… you know."

Kira smiled again and reached out with his free hand to touch Madarame's face. "Me too."

He was rewarded with Ikkaku's relieved, lopsided smile. "Well. Okay then."

And then he stood, tugging Kira into a standing position next to him. "I'm gonna teach you how to do my luck-luck dance."

Kira blinked.

"But ya gotta promise not to tell anyone else in the _world_, kay? This…this is just fer you'n me, and that's it. Nobody else, ever."

Izuru beamed. "Promise."

"Alright then. Er… you ready?"

"Show me."

"Well…first ya start with this leg…"

**END**


	291. Lift Your Head

**291.**

**Title:** Lift Your Head  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **slightly GinxKira, slightly WabisukexShinsou  
**Word Count:** 518  
**Warning/s: **Er, spoilers for Div 3 sword names? (I guess I spoiled that already tho. O.o)  
**Summary:** Wabisuke knows its master's weaknesses like it knows its own.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- this is me trying something new with the GinxKira. But dude, got your subliminal messages loud and clear. XD  
**A/N: **So, sentient swords are a bit of a love for me, since my first ever favorite RPG was Tales of Destiny. I just uh…hope I did okay? It was a little hard. O.o

* * *

A zanpakutou is born as the reflection of its owner's soul, its abilities and strength all in accordance with what is in the heart and mind of its wielder. 

It is created in the image of the one who holds it.

Wabisuke shudders as it feels Izuru's straining body as they battle together, every strike against them a solid blow that shakes the sword to its very hilt.

It feels Kira's arms when they begin to fail around it, feels the fluttering, frightened soul of the blonde straining against its own, weighing it down when all it wants to do is unleash the strength it knows is hidden inside and destroy all enemies in its path.

It wonders sometimes, whether Kira knows how strong he can be. How strong they can be together, if only he'll set them both free from their self-imposed prison. It wonders if Kira will ever know that the shackles that hold him back also hold Wabisuke back as well, keep it from using its full power. They could be so much stronger together, the sword thinks, if there was not this heavy weight tied around them both, intertwining flesh with flesh and metal with metal.

It wonders if Kira will ever realize that it is Ichimaru's arms around him that make him shake, make him feel oh so heavy when he could fly with just simple faith in his and Wabisuke's shared strength.

But it knows Kira's weaknesses like they are its own, the blade understanding and mourning quietly instead of crying out to its wielder in desperation. Because Wabisuke knows exactly how Izuru feels, knows the soft murmurs of Ichimaru and the deceptively gentle touch of the third division captain with a frightening intimacy all its own.

Because when Gin smiles and strokes Kira's cheek, when he leans down and says right in the blonde's ear, "Believe in only me, Kira-chan," Wabisuke as well, feels the breath of Shinsou on its back, the other sword's metallic song hissing, "Lift your head only for me, Wabisuke."

And the younger zanpakutou shudders just as its master does, the touch of Ichimaru's soul wrapping around it in the form of Shinsou, its voice making Wabisuke weak, the other sword's familiar touch making Wabisuke flutter with want.

Wabisuke knows that its master can be strong, but is held back, just as it is, by an iron weight wrapped intimately around them both. And so it knows that as Kira's arms begin to fail now, as his heart flutters and his soul is frightened in the face of this battle, the name Izuru calls next will not be his zanpakutou's.

Thus Wabisuke is not surprised when moments later, it feels the familiar, metallic touch of Shinsou as it fortifies the younger sword's attack, as it winds its power around Wabisuke and murmurs, "Lift your head only for me, Wabisuke."

Wabisuke shudders.

Outside, the young soul slayer feels Kira's arms strengthen, feels its master's breath quicken and his spirit flare with hope.

It hears Ichimaru Gin as the captain smiles and says, "I'm here to save you, Kira-chan."

**END**


	292. Initiation

**292.**

**Title:** Initiation  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Iba, Renji, Ikkaku, Shuuhei, Izuru, Hitsugaya  
**Word Count:** 469  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Histugaya plays with the big dogs.  
**Dedication:** requested by dorkeyy  
**A/N: **Okay, I lied, there was one more request from that drabble thing. But NOW I'm done. The request was: "_characters: the Thugs, Hitsugaya, anyone else you want to stick in there; prompt: pranks."_

_

* * *

_

"You guys, he's a _captain_."

Iba grinned. "That's what makes it so great."

"Erm… he could um… he could…kill us?" Kira reminded them all.

"Hey, he's the one that wanted the sake in the first place," Ikkaku stated in response. "We were just followin' orders'n stuff."

Shuuhei fidgeted. "He was obviously under duress. You know, being teased for his age and his size. And we bought him enough to make him _pass out, _remember? Shit…. you guys, we're totally bad influences now!"

"You've become such a damn pansy over the years, anyone ever tell that?" Iba grunted, poking Hisagi in the chest. "This'll be hilarious, I mean it. 'sides, we warned the kid, didn't we?"

Renji nodded. "Totally warned him."

Shuuhei still looked tentative about the whole thing. "If anyone finds out we gave alcohol to a minor we're gonna be in so much trouble…"

"Ah, he ain't technically a minor," Ikakku reassured the vice-captain impatiently. "'s totally different. Now shaddup and pass me the lipstick, will ya, Kira?"

Kira sighed, but did as he was told. "This is a strange initiation," he murmured. "Especially since you all go on and on about being as manly as you all are."

Renji waved the blonde off. "'s different for everyone, yeah? 'Sides… Matsumoto shouldn'ta left her makeup lyin' 'round like this. It's like askin' for us to play with it."

"Totally," Iba agreed, dabbing at the unconscious young captain's face with the lipstick Ikkaku had handed him. "Hehe, I'm sure when he wakes up, Shirou-chan'll be the cutest two-dollar hooker we ever did see."

"He's going to kill us," Hisagi exclaimed, throwing up his hands in defeat. "He's going to wake up, look in the mirror, and freeze us all solid and then kill us."

"Hey, he wanted to roll with the big boys. Wouldn't be fair if we didn't initiate him just like everyone else, right?" Iba pushed, turning to Ikkaku for affirmation.

"Exactly. Wouldn't ya feel gypped or somethin', Hisagi, if we let him in without so much as a how'dya do after what we made _you_ go through?"

Shuuhei frowned. "Well…"

"Heh… remember the wig we set him up with?" Ikkaku barked, grinning broadly. "Man you were one ugly broad, Hisagi."

"Didn't look so hot yourself, I remember correctly," Iba reminded the bald death god. "Damn but you were a dog of a redhead."

"Still a better one than Abarai, eh?"

Renji rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright, shaddup, would'ja? Someone gimme that black stuff."

"Eyeliner," Kira supplied helpfully.

Everyone stared at him.

He looked away, blushing prettily and fidgeting with the edge of one long sleeve. "Erm… I think that's what it is, anyway."

They all shook their heads and went back to work, trying actively not to remember which of them had been the best cross-dresser.

**END**


	293. Freeze the Sky

**293.**

**Title:** Freeze the Sky  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Hitsugaya, Hyourinmaru  
**Word Count:** 492  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for ch 208  
**Summary:** A guardian spirit of ice that comes along only once in many generations- Hyourinmaru.  
**Dedication:** emlan- because I was totally thinking of your Hitsu-puppy when I wrote his reactions here. XD  
**A/N: **So I've been wanting to write about the swords lately? shrug I guess this also doubles for Toushirou's birthday. XD

* * *

Hyourinmaru resents the limits it has been placed under for these past years. 

The dragon is a rare, sacred sword, a spiritual being of immense grace and power meant to be revered by all and wielded by only the best.

To be trapped inside the small, fragile body of this arrogant boy is a slap in the face.

To be denied the full glory of its birthright is insulting to both the ice dragon's reputation and to the word 'genius', which has been so liberally gifted to Hitsugaya Toushirou by those who do not know any better.

Those fools cannot even begin to grasp the true depth of Hyourinmaru's ability. Nor can they understand the fact that Toushirou, so young and foolish and proud, is not truly the genius they believe him to be.

Because Hyourinmaru is more powerful than Histugaya is capable of withstanding, a guardian of nature that could snap the form it has been trapped inside of just as easily as it destroys the Hollows it is forced to battle.

Full if indignant longing, Hyourinmaru roars its outrage in the frozen skies as the flowers of ice begin to shatter like glass around it.

The boy is at his limit.

Hyourinmaru is not even close.

Writhing in anger, it disappears for a breath, leaving the boy to the Arrankar's attack in one fleeting moment. It feels Toushirou's pain as his body is ripped asunder and the power is drained from his limbs when the attack connects. The young form falls to the ground and Hyourinmaru watches it, glaring.

The boy believes he will die.

No one can measure the rage of the ice dragon as it looks down at its pathetic master, the one whom it had allowed to use its strength simply because there was no other option.

Not many souls call to the ice and snows of the deep in which Hyourinmaru sleeps. The dragon slumbers there, frozen in time, awaiting the call of a spirit compatible with its own to wake it, to bind with it and allow it glorious battle once more.

It happens only once in many millennia.

The dragon spirit cuts the air above the motionless body of its master and hisses contemptuously in his ear. "Are you dead already, little boy?"

One cold green eye opens and gazes back at the ice guardian disdainfully. "Something like that won't kill me," he gasps, though blood trickles from his mouth as he says it.

Such audacity!

Hyourinmaru shrieks, snapping the air in its jaws and causing the gaseous water molecules between them to freeze and fall from the sky. "Do you wish to be stronger, little boy? Can you? Or shall I leave you here? Return to my sleep and await a stronger master, an eon from now?"

A bloody hand reaches towards the roaring ice spirit. "Damn stupid dragon. Shut up and show me while I'm still young, would you?"

Hyourinmaru smiles. "Very well."

**END**


	294. Crest of the Dragon

**294.**

**Title:** Crest of the Dragon  
**Rating:** PG-13 for swearing.   
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Hozukimaru  
**Word Count:** 102  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 206  
**Summary:** Hozukimaru is a reflection of Ikkaku.  
**Dedication:** idiosyn- because I still adore your characterization of Hozukimaru and Ikkaku best. heart  
**A/N: **Yeah, I'm being a dumbass and just writing about the swords like a crazy person now. sigh I'm so unoriginal. --;;

* * *

Hozukimaru groans and stares at the sky, breaths coming in pants that taste like blood. 

"Fuckin' _shit,_" it exclaims after a moment, wincing when it feels its shattered edges reverberate with the vocalization of its disbelief.

"No kidding," Ikkaku responds, equally as splayed out on his bloodied, broken back.

They wheeze and cringe and bleed together on the floor, the soul slayer's broken body the mirror image of its wielder's.

For a moment, there is nothing but silence between them, stunned incredulity at the outcome of their battle.

And then, "This is all your fault, ya great idiot."

Ikkaku snarls. "Aw, shaddup."

**END  
**


	295. Playing God

**295.**

**Title:** Playing God  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Urahara, Mayuri  
**Word Count:** 424  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Mayuri's part in the Soul Society arc and possibly for ch 207.  
**Summary:** Urahara and Mayuri and their finest achievements.  
**Dedication:** Beck- I'm comin' home soooooon! sparkle  
**A/N: **This has been bugging me for a while but I really didn't want to write it because…well, I didn't think I could do it well. But it bugged me and bugged me and bugged me and I decided to just do it and be done with. I think the results are less than good, but it's out of my system, which is a relief. Maybe someone else can do this parallel more justice than I can in the future? Or already has? meh

* * *

He made her with a smile, called himself her father even before her first breath. He shaped her with everything he considered dear and anticipated a truly beautiful daughter to open her eyes and look up at him once he was done. 

They said it was unethical; to play the role of god and mold a life out of nothing for his own amusement, but Urahara had no ambitions towards divinity that he knew of when he started on that dear little one.

He just thought that it would be nice, maybe, to not have to be alone in this new world.

When she opened her eyes, she smiled at him shyly and he patted her head.

She was everything he could ever have wanted and every day as he watched her grow and learn and gain strength in this strange human world, he found himself looking forward, more and more, to seeing what she would do next.

Urahara created her with a heart full of hope.

He felt Ururu was perfect.

He made her with determination, called her his greatest achievement even before her first breath. He shaped her with everything he considered practical and necessary to become a competent shinigami. He anticipated a fully functional, unquestionably obedient servant to open her eyes and look up at him once he was done.

They said it was unethical; to make a life for no other purpose than servitude, to become a father for the sole reason of having control over another person. But Kurotsuchi had no ambitions towards fatherhood that he knew of when he started on experiment number four-hundred and thirty-six.

He thought that it would be convenient, unquestionably, to have something in this world completely devoted to his ambitions and his ambitions alone.

When she opened her eyes, he smiled and told her to hold still, he wasn't quite done yet. When she screamed, he slapped her and told her not to shift the mechanisms before her completion for risk of complications in the process.

When she was finished, she was almost everything he had intended her to be, though every day he grew less and less impressed with his own work as he watched her grow and learn and gain strength as his vice-captain. As she began to develop a will of her own, he found himself growing more and more wary of what foolish thing she would do next.

Mayuri created Nemu with a heart full of ambition.

He felt that the results of his experiment were far from perfect.

**END**


	296. Locked Away

**296.**

**Title:** Locked Away  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi?  
**Word Count:** 377  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Ichigo/Kenpachi fight in the SS arc.  
**Summary:** She's a princess trapped in a tower.  
**Dedication:** Mel- I believe in your Skye fic!  
**A/N: **I'm going to stop. I mean it. I will. I WILL STOP BEING SO CHEAP. Also, this is RAGING speculation on my part, but that's the fun part, right? Right. Aheh.

* * *

She's cried out for so long her voice is all but gone. She is tearstained and lonely, trapped from her owner by the deep, immobile barrier he has placed between them. 

Her edges are jagged and her shine has dulled considerably from its once magnificent state.

It doesn't matter. All she wants in the whole wide world is to have Zaraki hear her voice.

It hurts to be without an identity, to be used as tool and have her soul neglected. Her true strength is kept separately contained from his, sealed in the syllables of her name.

She's a princess locked away in a tower, weeping as the sounds of battle rage outside.

For many, many years she's been alone like this, crying out for help with no one to save her.

He never asks for her name, and it's all she needs in the world to break the curse and set her free.

She could fight beside him, if he would let her. She could bolster his strength, temper his enormous power, could channel and shape it into something magnificent, the combination of the best of their natures working in concert.

But he's locked her away and thrown away the key.

He uses her body as a tool only; coldly ignoring her pleas to let her out, let her join him.

It wears on her and wears on her and after many years, she one day hears a boy cry out, "This is my power and Zangetsu's together!" And when she hears the roar of another zanpakutou as it slices ferociously into the flesh of her master, that's it. The end. She can't take it anymore.

All the years, all the begging, the tears, the isolation—it's too much.

She breaks.

She feels herself shatter with a cry, her weary voice barely a whisper as she feels them both falling, as she feels her master's arm go limp and his breath shudder and give.

Then everything goes dark.

She wakes later, feeling her broken body as it is clutched to a heaving chest.

She hears a voice.

"It sucks not having a name, huh?"

And then she hears him ask her for hers.

She's so surprised that for a moment, she doesn't know what to say.

**END**


	297. Remembering the Rain

**297.**

**Title:** Remembering the Rain  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Zangetsu, Shirayuki  
**Word Count:** 500  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 202.  
**Summary:** Zangetsu remembers the day the world shifted.  
**Dedication:** emlan again, because she is full of the Zangetsu love.  
**A/N: **I should stop this, shouldn't I? --;;

* * *

He would probably never admit it even if asked directly, but the first time his world shifted to the sideways orientation it had now, he'd panicked. 

He hadn't known what was going on in young Ichigo's life at that exact moment, what monumental event could have happened that would cause the boy's entire world to shift degrees in the wrong direction.

He knew what it was now, of course, but that first time when he'd blinked and suddenly found himself plunging, it had been the most disconcerting thing he'd ever experienced.

That is, until the rains had come.

It had been as if the shifting of Ichigo's universe was merely a harbinger for the endless torrential storms that buffeted Zangetsu day in and day out for many years after that.

For a long time, he had been trapped in dark world that never stopped raining, cold and wet and alone.

It felt like the water drained the strength from his bones, and Zangetsu could never remember anything more painful than the sensation of his power being ripped away from him one layer at a time, as if the rain was eroding his very persona away with each ice cold drop.

He remembered curling up in the corner of one of the buildings and willing himself to sleep, if only to lessen the toll of the rain on his heart.

But then one day he'd awoken to another earthquake, and feared for the worst again, feared that Ichigo's internal balance was going to shift once more and this time, leave him completely upside-down.

When the shaking came to a halt, Zangetsu had stood and tentatively peered out of the nearest window.

Everything had looked exactly as he had left it.

Except for a moment… it seemed as if the rain had stopped.

When he turned around again, a small white rabbit blinked back at him from across the room.

They'd stared at each other in astonishment.

He remembers that this astonishment had lasted several days.

But he had found that Shirayuki was not so bad once they'd gotten over their mutual distrust of one another, and before long, Zangetsu decided that it wasn't so bad to not be alone anymore.

The rain had stopped that day. It was as if the little snow rabbit had frozen it in the sky above them, causing a quiet calm that soothed Zangetsu's weary heart, made him feel strong again.

The rain had stopped that day, for just a little while.

And when she left, it began again.

But the second time around was less troubling for Zangetsu.

He'd stood and stretched, looking to the sky in defiance of the storm that brewed in Ichigo's heart.

This time, he did not mourn the coming of the rain, did not curl up inside one of the poorly constructed refuges and hope for the sun to break through again.

Instead, he called Ichigo's name.

He roared.

Because this time, Zangetsu knew how to make the rain stop.

**END**


	298. Transfer

**298.**

**Title:** Transfer  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkaxIzu (Madaruru? Ikkira? Kirame?), Kenpachi  
**Word Count:** 997  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the manga through ch 206  
**Summary:** Companion drabble to #290 (My Greatest Secret Revealed)- In his own special way, Kenpachi helps Ikkaku see the light.  
**Dedication:** swinku and kshi- I saw the little IkkaxKira icon chibis on your site (_and_ the ShuuxYumi ones)! LOVE!  
**A/N: **I feel like I win at life when people tell me they like IkkaxIzu and ShuuxYumi. I just do.

* * *

Kenpachi coughed. "Oi, Ikkaku." 

"Er, yeah, taichou?"

"C'mere a second, gotta talk to you."

Madarame blinked. "Uh…kay."

He followed Zaraki into his office, wondering what it was his captain wanted to speak to him about. He couldn't remember doing anything that warranted a talking to.

Zaraki sat down in his chair and after a moment of studying his subordinate, cleared his throat, scratched the side of his face, and averted his eye sideways.

"So…"

"Yeah?"

"Er, not that it's any of my business or anythin', Madarame, but I heard ya taught Kira your retarded dance a coupla days ago?"

Ikkaku blinked. And then reflexively responded, "it's not retarded."

"Sure it is. But I know how damn important it is to you. Now didja or didn't ya teach your poor, could-do-so-better-than-your-sorry-ass boyfriend your retarded dance?"

Ikkaku sighed; realizing that protesting the merits of his dance wouldn't further their conversation any. "Yeah. I taught him."

Kenpachi rubbed at the back of his neck at the admission. "I see."

"Er… that a problem or somethin', sir?"

"Nah… it's just…"

"It's just what?" he pressed.

Kenpachi fidgeted a bit in his seat. "Just…seems you're pretty damn serious 'bout this one then, aren'tcha?"

Ikkaku felt his cheeks turn red in embarrassment. Kenpachi didn't have to just go and put it like that all out in the open and stuff. "Er… well….yeah. I think so."

Zaraki sighed. "Suppose that settles it then."

"Er… huh?"

Zaraki gestured towards his third-seat. "Got a letter from Yama-jii this mornin'. Says you're in the runnin' to become the new captain of the third."

"Wait…_what_?"

"Well ya know your damn bankai, don'tcha? Everyone else knows ya do too."

Ikkaku was dumbfounded. "They do?"

"Ya great idiot, it was all over those power readings Akon was takin' after you fought that Arrankar."

At the revelation, Ikkaku looked at the ground in frustration. "Dammit."

It was Kenpachi's turn to blink. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Sir, I uh… well, I promised I wouldn't serve anyone but you, you know that, don'tcha? So I can't… they can't order me to, can they? I don't hafta do it if I don't wanna do I?"

Zaraki stared. "Waitaminute. You tryin' to tell me you don't _wanna_?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice when he asked the question.

Ikkaku was starting to get confused. "Well, it's not that… I mean, 'cuz then I'd be…but I made a promise and dammit, what good 'm I if I can't keep one measly…"

Kenpachi threw a cup at him.

It bounced off his head, and for a moment, the third seat just stared back at his captain because he wasn't quite sure if what had just happened really happened.

But then his head hurt.

"Ow! Dammit, taichou! The hell was that for?"

"You gotta be kiddin' me. You stupid or somethin'? That Arrankar take outta chunk of your brains while ya weren't lookin'?"

Ikkaku gaped a bit. "I uh… don't understand, sir."

"Ya taught Kira your damned retarded dance, didn'tcha?"

"Er…yessir." Ikkaku wasn't sure if it was the head injury that as muddling things or just the fact that Zaraki didn't make much sense on a good day.

"So? That means you're really serious 'bout that boy, ain'tcha?"

"Well… yeah. I think so."

"Ya think so, ya think so. Make a damned decision wouldja? Ya like him or don'tcha?"

"'Course I like him!" Ikkaku protested hotly. "Lots," he added, blushing a bit again.

"Well then go and be his damned captain!" Kenpachi finished, sounding like the bizarre correlation he'd just made was the simplest thing in the world.

Ikkaku stared back at him stupidly.

On that look, Kenpachi slapped a palm to his forehead. "Look," he began, very slowly, "ya love the guy, right? Don't deny it or get all blushy or any pansy bullshit like that, I mean it," he added quickly, cutting off Ikkaku before he could say anything about his captain's choice of words. "And now the big boys upstairs're givin' you a chance to be right there next to him, all the freakin' time."

"But…"

"Don't make me throw my ink well, ya mouthy bastard."

Ikkaku's jaw snapped shut.

"Right. So they give ya a chance to be with the guy night'n day, and you're worried about some retarded promise ya madea couple decades or so ago? Dyin' in my service. Che. Damn stupid promise in the first place, ya shoulda promised you'd kick my ass one day or somethin'. Least that woulda been respectable. Stupid, but respectable."

Zaraki paused after that tangent.

Once he'd found his original train of thought, "Look, moron. What I'm tryin' to say here is, you'll be under my damned service for the _rest of your life. _Doesn't matter where the hell ya are. Just a fact of life. Idiots servin' the strong'n stuff. Food chain sorta thing, you know. So ya might as well be where you can keep an eye on Kira, given that you're so damn serious 'bout the guy."

"Sir…"

Zaraki threw his inkwell.

Ikkaku yelped and ducked.

"Would ya shut up and listen!"

"Er…sorry, sir."

Zaraki glared. Stopped. "Actually, that was it."

Ikkaku's brow furrowed, too disconcerted to be properly annoyed with his captain's obtuseness. "So… you're tryin' ta tell me…"

Kenpachi's one feral eye rolled in exasperation. "I'm tellin' ya to take the damned job, you stupid dancing love-love idiot."

Ikkaku's head hurt. "Just wanted to make sure, sir."

Zaraki's head was beginning to hurt too. "Fuckin' moron. Wait a second and lemme go get your damned forms."

A few weeks later, when Ikkaku stepped into the third division headquarters as its new captain, Kira greeted him with the warmest smile he'd ever seen.

"Welcome…taichou."

And as he stared at his prettily glowing vice-captain, Madarame supposed that despite the abuse and the flying objects, he owed Zaraki a round of drinks for this one.

In light of what stood before him now, that _had_ been a pretty retarded promise.

**END**


	299. Free Your Soul

**299.**

**Title:** Free Your Soul  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Zangetsu, Ichigo  
**Word Count:** 396  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 202  
**Summary:** Zangetsu, meet Ichigo.  
**Dedication:** lissiel for bribing me to write something ZangetsuxIchigo, and emlan, who is the world's most famous ZanIchi shipper. XD  
**A/N: **Okay, so it's not exactly shippy, though there are some lines that could be taken in a suggestive manner, I suppose. But I don't think I can actually make a sword and its owner in a real shippy way. So something more of a mental bond and a sense of working together is probably the most meaningful way to go about talking about their relationship? I dunno, I've never done this before. --;;

* * *

Zangetsu told himself that the first opportunity he had to meet his master, he wouldn't hold back. He would unleash all of his anger and frustration and demand an explanation for the constant rains and the bone-chilling silence of the cold, sideways world he had been forced to endure for years, all alone. 

Except that the first time Zangetsu saw Ichigo, he hadn't been expecting what he got.

Such a young boy, helpless and ignorant to the powers that lay within him, too angry and hurt to fully understand what Zangetsu was for, what he was capable of.

And so the dark soul slayer couldn't be angry with Ichigo, not like he'd planned.

Because when he saw him, Zangetsu knew right away, that the boy was as lonely as he had been, in his own way. Because he could feel that the boy had endured his own rain for many years now as well.

Zangetsu felt his anger fade away at the first sight of his master. And the first time Ichigo held him as they battled side by side, borrowing Shirayuki and Rukia's strength to bolster their new, tentative bond, he felt something else altogether.

For the first time, Zangetsu was happy.

And any desire to be angry with Ichigo, any want to resent the boy for what he'd put the zanpakutou through all those silent, lonely years, instantly melted away.

It was as if his entire life, he had been waiting for that one moment.

The feel, the rush, the happiness of having his master wield him, the sensation of two strong hands wrapped around him, holding him up as their powers intertwined— it had been the greatest joy Zangetsu had ever experienced.

He never wanted it to end.

After that day, back in his sideways world, Zangetsu hadn't been able to calm the adrenaline in his veins, hadn't been able to steady his heaving breaths or slow his racing heart.

It was, he supposed, what joy must have felt like.

And he thought that everything would be okay-- the rain and the loneliness and the silence all-- as long as it could always be like that, as long as it could always be Ichigo and him together.

Shirayuki, trapped there with him at the time, had smiled wryly at the other soul slayer and said, "You haven't seen anything yet."

She was right.

**END**


	300. A Little Change

**300.**

**Title:** A Little Change  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxKira, IkkaxIzu  
**Word Count:** 804  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of directly? Maybe minor ones for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Vaguely connected to all my IkkaxIzu drabbles from before- Kira and his hair.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel and swinku- because waking up to fanart gifts brom BOTH of you on the same morning is like Christmas EARLY. I love you both.  
**A/N: **Drabble 300 I suppose, should go do a little third division, yes? Yes. Even though 100 and 200 didn't go to their respective divisions or anything. Um. Well, no one can say I've ever really been consistent anyway. And I've also got to throw in some IkkaxIzu because they've totally been my focus lately, so yeah. Here you have it. A lil GinxKira, a lil IkkaxIzu, and 300 drabbles. --;;

* * *

Kira remembers how Ichimaru had loved his hair, had tugged at it with his fingers during and petted it under his hand after. 

He remembers that he'd let it grow out because he'd liked the sting when Gin had pulled at it, and his captain had always complimented him on it, saying, "Kira-chan has the loveliest hair."

In those days, Izuru had been willing to do anything for his captain, anything to please Ichimaru that was in his power to do.

He hadn't even minded the extra effort it took on those mornings after, to wash out the things that had dried and clumped in the blonde locks during the course of the night.

But that had been a lifetime ago.

Now, now Ikkaku is always tucking his bangs behind his ear when he reaches up to touch Izuru's cheeks, clucking at Kira not to cover his face up, and isn't it hard to see like that?

Kira always flushes and looks away and the hair always falls back down over his eye when he does that.

Ikkaku will shake his head and with a fond smile, press a quick kiss to the blonde's forehead before murmuring in a resigned fashion, "Well, _I_ just like seein' your face is all, I guess. But ya don't gotta do anythin' you don't wanna."

Sometimes Kira will look in the mirror and push his hair away from his face, staring at his own reflection for a few moments and wondering what is possibly there that Ikkaku likes looking at so much.

He thinks he looks too pale and that his eyes always seem a little bit sad.

Then he lets his hair fall back down, and it's a bit of a relief to be able to hide behind that again, if only just a little bit.

He'd grown it out for Ichimaru-taichou because Gin had always petted his hair from behind afterwards, when Kira was splayed out on his stomach, bleeding and panting. It had been the one gesture his captain allowed him, because when they'd fucked they'd never really done anything else but that. It hadn't been about anything else but just that.

Gin would always touch his hair after they'd finished though, just a brief gesture as he left the room, before Kira could even find the strength to turn around and watch him go.

It had been all Gin had ever given him.

But Ikkaku always kisses him when they're done now, sweet and firm and with his hands on the blonde's face, looking right at him sometimes, grinning sometimes, cursing and groaning at others as they lie there tangled in one another, trying to catch their breath.

Kira thinks about that for a little bit, and then looks back at himself in the mirror.

With some determination, he tucks the hair back behind his ear and tentatively touches his own face, the way Ikkaku does when they kiss.

He frowns.

The next day, when Kira returns to the third division headquarters from a long lunch break, he's nervous.

His hair is short now, maybe even shorter than it was when he was at the academy, and he feels strangely vulnerable like this even though it was his own decision to get it cut.

"Hey, you finally back? You're late so I was…"

Ikkaku trails off as he rounds the corner and peers into the entryway to the vice-captain's office.

His jaw drops a little. "Oi… you… uh… you…"

Kira turns his eyes downward and flushes at his new captain's assessment, embarrassed. "Yeah… I…"

And then the bald death god grins and steps forward excitedly. "Ya cut it." There's a pleased, appreciative awe in his voice that makes Izuru's heart flutter in his chest.

"Yeah. I did." Kira fidgets, his hands automatically going up in search of hair that isn't there anymore. His fingers catch nothing but air and it feels strange.

Ikkaku, smiling crookedly, closes the distance between them and gently pulls the blonde's hands away from his head. "Wow. You cut it short," he observes with a low whistle.

"It uh…it was always getting in the way," Kira explains sheepishly, unable to hold back his own little smile as he takes in his lover's expression.

"Yeah? Well… I uh… it looks nice," Ikkaku murmurs, reaching out and touching the back of the blonde's neck, fingers just brushing the short hairs there.

Kira shivers. "Thanks."

Madarame, upon finishing his assessment of this new development, grins and cups the blonde's cheek with his other hand. "Hey… I can see you now," he says without thinking.

Kira, leans into the fingers on his cheek and understands exactly what Ikkaku means. "Yeah."

Ikkaku shoots Izuru a lopsided smile and simply says, "Cool."

They go back to work together and never really talk about Kira's hair again.

**END**


	301. A Simple Game of Cards

**301.**

**Title:** A Simple Game of Cards  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Byakuya, Yoruichi, Kuukaku, Kaien, Urahara  
**Word Count:** 995  
**Warning/s: **Some speculations on age relations for the above characters, not to mention some guessing as to Urahara's importance in seireitei. ;;  
**Summary:** Sequel to #209 ("A Simple Game of Tag")- Kuchiki Byakuya makes his first social call.   
**Dedication:** fanartist, for drawing a really cute Byakuya and Yoruichi fanart to "A Simple Game of Tag".  
**A/N: **I just thought it'd be fun if Byakuya was everyone's little darling prince. XD

* * *

The first time Byakuya was old enough to accompany his parents on a social outing, he was more excited than he ought to have been.

He had been preparing for the occasion for as long as he could recall, and all he remembered feeling about the situation was a heavy sense of dread and the burning desire to never come of age so as to have to deal with society's snobs _outside_ of his home.

But the day did come, and dressed in his finest clothing, he accompanied his parents to the Shiba household.

He found himself not dreading it as much as he might have imagined.

When they arrived there was quite the fuss about this being his first social call—the other families stepped forward to greet his parents and ruffled his hair in an overly familiar manner, telling him he'd grown so quickly and that he was becoming quite the handsome young man.

He bore it with grace, as he'd been taught to, and very politely thanked everyone for their compliments, expressing his appreciation at having been invited to share the evening with them.

They twittered at his manners and complimented his parents on having such a fine looking heir.

Byakuya clenched his teeth, reminding himself that there was something to look forward to here, out past all the adults giving him appraising looks.

So he suffered the gauntlet and once through, waited for the magical words.

"Byakuya, the other young people are just through there, if you'd like to introduce yourselves to them," his mother murmured into his ear as she gently pushed him away from the chaos. "Go on, love."

He threw her a grateful look over his shoulder before disappearing down the hallway, towards the sounds of younger, more boisterous conversation.

The conversation that died the moment he stepped into the room.

It was almost as bad, the feeling of everyone's eyes on him again, but somehow worse because everyone looking at him now was near his own age, lounging casually on luxurious furniture and sounding astonishingly similar to their parents.

He blinked at them before straightening automatically and saying, "Excuse me."

Eyes scanning the room, every unfamiliar face he found made his heart sink more and more, until he was at the point where he thought that perhaps, it would be best to take his chances back with the adults.

"Man, you look like you lost your best friend there, Byakuya-bo."

The sound of her voice had him spinning immediately, and he ignored the small murmur that arose amongst the loungers upon the revelation of his name.

"Yoruichi-sama."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oi, oi… what'd I say 'bout you bein' a stuffed shirt?" she asked, leaning forward and poking him on the nose. "Keep that up and you're gonna end up like the snobbies in there," she warned him, gesturing with her chin towards the room he had rendered silent.

He winced, because her voice was loud enough to carry, but nobody raised a fuss at her assessment. He supposed there were certain advantages to being the Shihouin family princess.

"I was looking for you," he admitted. "I'm afraid I don't know anyone else and if you don't mind…"

She grinned. "Aw, well, I missed you too, bochamma."

He was torn between smiling at her easy admission and being embarrassed by it. "Well… for a moment I'd thought…"

"Please," she interrupted, waving at him dismissively. "You think I'd be hanging out with those brats?"

He blinked. "Well, er…"

She grabbed his hand. "C'mon. I'll take you to where the real party's at."

At a loss, he simply followed her lead. "Where are we going?"

"We are going here!" she exclaimed after the fourth or fifth turn through the mazelike home, pushing her way into a room that had some light peeking out from under the door. "Oi, I found him!" she announced once they were inside.

"Oooh? That the little Kuchiki prince?" another girl's voice asked, sounding amused.

Feeling disoriented, Byakuya looked around.

The room seemed to be purely recreational, and a bit messy really, which was surprising.

And he found himself to be the center of attention again. There were two young men and another young lady there, all gathered around a table playing cards. The oldest looking boy was smoking.

Byakuya immediately stood up straighter. "Um…pleased to make your acquaintance… I'm Kuchiki…"

The blonde boy burst out laughing. "Oh he's cute," he grinned, hair unruly and falling into his eyes as he let out a breath of smoke from his pipe.

"Ain't he?" Yoruichi grinned, pushing Byakuya forward rather indelicately. "He's gonna join us."

The other young man smiled welcomingly at the newcomer before turning to Yoruichi. "Alright, just let us finish this hand real quick."

The girl grinned and stole the pipe from the blonde. "I dunno what you're so intent on, niisama… you ain't got a chance against the hand I got," she told the black-haired boy.

Byakuya was very confused. "I…"

Yoruichi patted him. "Urahara Kisuke," she started, pointing at the blonde. "Shiba Kaien, Shiba Kuukaku…" she indicated, pointing to the brother and sister pair.

He gaped. "Urahara…Shiba…"

"Blah, blah, blah, ya shouldn't act so surprised, _Kuchiki_-sama."

Urahara chuckled again. "He's _too_ cute."

Byakuya hadn't expected his first social call to involve a meeting of the heirs to all four of seireitei's noble families. It was a bit overwhelming. "Er… pardon me… but what are you all doing _here_?" he asked, once he'd been able to wrap his mind around everything.

They should have been out mingling with the guests, really. It was only polite.

Kaien blinked at the question. Then waved his cards in Byakuya's face. "We're playin' cards is what we're doing."

"I…see."

Kuukaku looked at him. "Ya know how to play?"

He shook his head.

She sighed. "Alright then. Siddown and we'll show ya."

That night, the venerable Kuchiki Byakuya learned how to play (and cheat at) poker.

**END**


	302. Cohabitation

**302.**

**Title:** Cohabitation  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Shuumi, Ikkira  
**Word Count:** 953  
**Warning/s: **Weird dialogue and fluff, but no direct spoilers here, I suppose.  
**Summary:** loosely related to previous Ikkira (and in a little way Shuumi) drabbles- Ikkaku asks Shuuhei a question.  
**Dedication:** swinku and kshi- there is something awesome about waking up to your guys' art in the morning.  
**A/N: **There's something about Shuuhei being the senpai to Ikkaku on relationship issues that appeals to me. Possibly because it's another case of the blind leading the blind. XD

* * *

"Say…" Ikkaku began, sounding awkward.

Shuuhei looked up. "Say what?"

"Er… you know, when you'n Yumichika er…"

The vice-captain frowned. "This better not be a sex question."

"Oh god, no! Eeeuw. No!" Ikkaku protested hotly. "It's not!"

Shuuhei breathed a sigh of relief. "Well good. So what?"

"I was wonderin'… er… when you'n Yumichika decided to you know, leave the barracks and um… well… you know."

"Live together?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that. Er… how'd you… how'd you ask him?"

Shuuhei stared at the other death god. "You're kidding, right?"

Ikkaku scowled. "If I was kiddin' I wouldn'ta asked an asshole like you. Now you gonna tell me or what?"

Shuuhei rolled his eyes. "I didn't ask him."

Ikkaku blinked. "You didn't?" Thought about it for a second. "Okay, wait, never mind. I guess that was a dumb question. He _told _ya, right?"

Shuuhei sighed. "Yeah, pretty much."

"So uh…what'd you say?"

Shuuhei gave him a look.

Ikkaku backtracked. "Well obviously ya agreed to it, but you know, how'd ya react?"

"Well…he said he wanted to live together. And I said, I'd look into the cohabitation policy, ya know? Thought that'd buy me some time or somethin'."

"And?"

Shuuhei sighed, hung his head a little. "I looked into it the very next day."

Ikkaku sighed too. "You are so damn whipped."

"Aw, shaddup," Hisagi snapped. "I did think about it first, ya know. When he said it, I stayed up that whole damn night thinkin' about it. And I thought hey, that wouldn't be so bad. Barracks ain't exactly the best of place to be alone with someone, ya know. And it was kinda hard to be so far away from each other all the time, so I figured we could give it a try or somethin', and see how it was, you know, to pool our pay for the bigger place and hafta commute to headquarters, make our own food, clean up and stuff…so we tried it. Works fine."

Ikkaku grew impatient. "I knew you two would be a bad example to try'n follow."

Hisagi looked insulted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The two of you always do everythin' so damn convoluted. Ya suck as a reference," Madarame told him flat out. He grumbled and sat down next to the other man and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I was thinkin'… on askin' Kira if he maybe wanted to…"

Shuuhei blinked. "Why?"

Ikkaku glared. "Why? The hell kinda question is that?"

"You're captain now, remember?" Hisagi reminded him, in case the idiot had forgotten.

"What's that gotta do with anythin'?"

"You get your own damned quarters. Two of you could just live in there, couldn't ya? See how it works? Plus it'd cut off the commute into headquarters from the housin' units."

"Well, that's true," Ikkaku muttered. "But I don't wanna do like that bastard Ichimaru did, ya know? Havin' him sneak around like that since he's got his own quarters already too."

Shuuhei looked understanding. "So you want to make it all official-like."

"Yeah. You know, let everybody know that it's how it is, 'n stuff. No whisperin' about maybes and shit like that when he's walkin' the halls."

Shuuhei looked incredulous. "Well. I didn't think it was possible."

Ikkaku's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"You bein' a gentleman about anythin'."

"Aw shaddup. I'm just thinkin' about it right now. Ain't done nothin' yet."

"Became a captain for him, didn'tcha?"

Ikkaku hated it when Hisagi was being logical about stuff. "Well…"

"Seems to be a bigger commitment than just livin' with the guy. 'Specially since ya had to go'n break your big dramatic promise to Zaraki and all that."

"I oughta punch you."

"I oughta punch you, Shuuhei, for bein' so much smarter'n me, you mean."

Ikkaku scowled. "I don't know why I ask you for help."

Hisagi grinned. "All I'm gonna say about the whole thing is, if you really want it, it'll just happen. Whether you're ready for it or not."

"Gee, that's reassuring."

Shuuhei laughed.

Ikkaku spent the next few weeks consumed by the thought, the possibility. He wondered to himself late at night, while Kira slept soundly beside him, if he was going to ask the question, when he was going to ask the question… _how_ he was going to ask the question. If he was in the first place, that is.

Kira began to notice his restlessness, and after it didn't go away for a while, asked him one night before they fell asleep, if anything was the matter.

"No…nothin's the matter."

"Are you sure? You seem so…"

"Hey, you wanna move in with me?"

Silence.

Kira seemed surprised at the question.

But nowhere near as surprised as Ikkaku was.

Well shit.

So much for planning.

Madarame hated it when Shuuhei was right. He'd been nowhere near ready to ask the damned question but he'd just gone and done it like an idiot anyway, and now Kira wasn't saying anything and that probably meant Ikkaku had messed up good and he was _fucked._

His chest felt heavy. "Look, Kira," he began after the silence lingered, "you uh, don't gotta say anythin' or anythin', I was just er, thinkin' out loud or somethin'… alright? So uh, forget I said any…"

"Yes."

Silence

And then an incredulous, "Wait, really?"

"Yeah."

Ikkaku blinked.

"Well… alright then. Er… goodnight."

Kira smiled and pressed a gentle kiss on the corner of the other death god's mouth. "Night."

Ikkaku stayed up for a while after that, staring down at the sleeping blonde incredulously.

So that bastard Hisagi could be right about stuff in a good way every once in a while after all.

Ikkaku made a mental note to buy Shuuhei a drink tomorrow.

**END **


	303. 11th Division: Study

**303.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 1: Study  
**Rating:** PG-13 for Zaraki's dialogue. XD  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yamamoto  
**Word Count:** 346  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the end of the Soul Society arc and for things mentioned in ch 206.  
**Summary:** Center 46 wants to know the secrets behind Kenpachi's success.  
**Dedication:** sophiap- ideas for this and the subsequent ficlets in this series from some comments she made on my lj.  
**A/N: **Because let's face it. The Eleventh Division makes the leaders of tomorrow. XD

* * *

"Regardless of how you feel, Yamamoto-soutaichou, the evidence that we have here states that the eleventh division is doing something right. And it's your job to find out what."

The orders rang out with a sense of finality that weighed heavily on the first division captain, and with a shuddering sigh he nodded. "Understood."

He left Center 46 that day dreading what the next day would entail.

The following morning, bright and early, he and several Center 46 assigned analysts paid Zaraki Kenpachi and the eleventh division headquarters a special visit.

"The hell you want?" Zaraki said by way of greeting, eyeing his visitors suspiciously from his desk.

"Just to observe you, Zaraki," Yamamoto responded calmly.

"Actually, we're here to determine how your leadership techniques serve to train your subordinates, shaping them into well, the surprise leaders of tomorrow," one particularly sycophantic analyst interrupted, stepping in front of Yamamoto to speak directly to Kenpachi.

Zaraki blinked, as if seeing the people behind Yamamoto for the first time. And then, "The fuck are you?"

The man blinked. "Er… I'm… well, I'm… you mean, no one told you?"

"I sent the notice yesterday, Zaraki."

Kenpachi stared at Yamamoto. "So. Ya still think I read your letters, huh? That's cute."

The commander's brow narrowed. "Insolent…"

"Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. You idiots wanna see what a day at the division is like? I ain't gonna stop you."

Everyone sighed in collective relief. Yamamoto was surprised at how easy Zaraki capitulated.

"Ain't gonna protect ya either," he added, with a shark-like smile.

Yamamoto sighed. "I'm going back to my headquarters. Sachikawa, I trust you and your men can take care of the rest?"

"Erm… yes, of course."

Zaraki grinned. "I'll take real good care of 'em, Yama-jii, you just leave it to me."

Yamamoto would have felt bad for the men he was abandoning if he wasn't already so happy about the fact that _he_ didn't have to stay.

That day, the new Center 46 hoped to learn what it was about the eleventh division that shaped the leaders of tomorrow.

**END**


	304. Adoring Public

**304.**

**Title:** Adoring Public  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 494  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Ukitake's birthday brings all his adoring fans together to celebrate.  
**Dedication:** fallofrain- hope you're taking some time off to enjoy the holiday. ;;  
**A/N: **Yes, I am late for Ukitake's birthday. I just tend to DO That. --;; But at least I did it? Aheh. Yeah.

* * *

Ukitake has always been very popular amongst everyone in Soul Society, and Shunsui thinks that there nothing is more fitting than seeing kind, sweet Jyuushirou rewarded for his winning personality on his birthday, when he is surrounded by people who adore him and wish to share and celebrate the occasion with him.

The white-haired captain is always gracious to everyone, smiling genuinely with them and blushing modestly when he is honored with gifts from the people present.

And seeing Jyuushirou in the center of that crowd of adoring fans, laughing and talking animatedly while he opens presents and eats cake is such a lovely sight that Kyouraku just can't find it in himself to be jealous of the fact that Ukitake is so willing to share his warm attentions with everyone else.

It's part of what Shunsui treasures most about the other man after all, so it would be rather hypocritical to be envious. And honestly, Kyouraku thinks that it's the one thing about Jyuushirou that makes him sparkle brighter than anyone else in Kyouraku's eyes in the first place.

Jyuushirou is genuinely kind to everyone. His smiles are honest and his gratitude is real, and that just makes him all the more lovely to Kyouraku, even if it means that the other captain has to share Ukitake all the more for it.

So he stands back with a fond little sigh and watches Jyuushirou bask in the attentions of his subordinates, of his fellow captains, hell, of the cleaning staff and the people whose only job in seireitei is to make copies as well.

Ukitake is at his most brilliant when he is unwittingly charming the pants off of everyone he meets, and his birthday is no exception.

He's positively glowing.

And Shunsui doesn't mind that it's not him who's making Ukitake glow like that, not as long as he gets to watch, sipping warm sake and thinking to himself that in a couple of hours, when the revelers and well-wishers are gone, when the cake is eaten and all the presents opened, when the wine is finished and the day begins to end, he and Ukitake will be the only ones still here.

With a dreamy, anticipatory look in his eye, the eighth division captain imagines how truly lovely Jyuushirou will be when that time is upon them, when it's further into the evening and the birthday boy is basking in Shunsui's attentions and Shunsui's alone.

Because while he doesn't mind sharing the honestly smiling, openly laughing Ukitake who is currently chatting with his adoring fans around the table, Kyouraku can reassure himself of his place in Jyuushirou's heart when he thinks about the special smiles and fluttering laughter that Ukitake saves only for him.

On Ukitake's birthday, Shunsui is always the last to give the other captain his present.

And when anyone asks what the other captain got him, Jyuushirou simply smiles and says that he received an absolutely lovely gift.

**END**


	305. Birthday Wish

**305.**

**Title:** Birthday Wish  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **HitsugayaxMatsumoto  
**Word Count:** 825  
**Warning/s: **Erm… rampant speculation on the future, I suppose. But no spoilers, really.  
**Summary:** Hitsugaya has had only one birthday wish for many years now.  
**Dedication:** tokkichan- I am bad and haven't written the tenth division for like, the longest time. --;;  
**A/N: **Er, something more directly birthday related for Hitsugaya's belated birthday. --;;

* * *

He was tired of being treated like a kid.

Especially today of all days, because it was supposed to symbolize the fact that he'd become _older_. Again.

He was taller than her by a head now (and had been for some time dammit), but she could still reach up and ruffle his hair like it was nothing, still flirt with him half-seriously and expect him not to do anything about it but blush and grumble and keep to himself until the heat in his cheeks had cooled.

He wasn't a child anymore.

But Matsumoto didn't seem to be able to acknowledge that, and so here he was on another birthday, a young man now, and she'd made him a cake. And bought balloons. And stupid, pointy hats for everyone to wear.

Maybe it was the fact that she'd been there pretty much the entire time, watching him grow up. She still saw that baby-faced kid with an attitude she'd been assigned under many years ago when she looked at him now, the one she'd been there to guide and teach and tease, every step of the way. Maybe that was why she wouldn't recognize the fact that he was all grown up now.

Other women recognized it. In fact, a lot of them chased after him with an abandon that he considered almost shameful.

But Matsumoto was the only one who didn't really, the one who just smiled and winked at him like he was still breast-high on her and grumbling about being hit in the face with her chest whenever they bumped into each other.

She hadn't even noticed how he'd stopped complaining about that _years_ ago.

He sighed as everyone sang to him and blew out the candles with a sort of mechanical familiarity, managing a smile when everyone asked him what he'd wished for.

"He can't say or it won't come true, you know that," Matsumoto tsked, before cutting the cake. "Go ahead and open your presents, taichou."

"Aa, thanks," he murmured, trying not to stare at her in her ridiculous party hat while she leaned forward and started to dish out cake and tea to everyone present.

He got a bottle of wine from Hinamori, a new pen set from Ukitake, and something naughty and unmentionable from Kyouraku, who winked at him from across the table and flashed him a thumbs up, shouting, "Go for it, young man!" as he drank from his ever-present sake dish.

Ukitake blushed and thwacked the boisterous eighth division captain on the shoulder for that while Hinamori, brow knit, inquired as to the nature of the gift.

"It's…something," he assured her quickly, shoving the box under the table and gratefully accepting the cake from Matsumoto.

His vice-captain had knitted him a scarf for his birthday this year.

She fussed over him about it, wrapping it around him in front of everyone and looking up at him critically, smoothing the ends against his chest and straightening the tassels. "I was right," she murmured in satisfaction, putting her hands on her hips and stepping back to study him. She winked. "Taichou looks very cute, ne Hinamori?"

Hinamori laughed and nodded. "Very handsome."

Hitsugaya wasn't quite able to stop himself from rolling his eyes at them.

They giggled together and Toushirou supposed that it was time to stop complaining about no one treating him like an adult and actually act like one.

And that meant if he really wanted it enough, he'd have to go and get the present he'd wished for later, by himself.

Eyeing the chattering girls, he definitely couldn't count on either of them to figure it out for him.

Sighing, he bore Matsumoto's teasing, Hinamori's quiet help, Kyouraku's waggling eyebrows, Ukitake's blushing looks of apology and the ridiculous pointy hats for a few hours more, waiting for the end of the celebration.

Later in the evening, when they were finally alone in the tenth division headquarters again, Matsumoto smiled and asked him, "So, did you get everything you wanted this year, taichou?"

He eyed her. "Not exactly."

She frowned. "No? Well, I admit the pen set was a little boring, but at least you can use it, ne?" She held it up, examining it critically. "It's a nice one, that's for sure."

He sighed. Now or never. "Hey Matsumoto…" he started, reaching out and taking the pen set from her hands.

She looked at him "Hmmm?"

He put the gift back on the table, took a deep breath, and leaned down and kissed her.

It was just a quick touch, but a solid one, firm and decisive. And then he was pulling back and standing up, cheeks pink but winking at her anyway.

"Alright, now I got everything I wanted."

On her stunned look, he smirked.

Walking out of the room before she could say anything, he grinned and thought to himself that after that, she'd know exactly what present he wanted for next year.

**END**


	306. Assignment

**306.**

**Title:** Assignment  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou  
**Word Count:** 721  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary: **Follows most of my other GanjyuxHanatarou drabbles- Ganjyu finally gets assigned to a division.  
**Dedication:** Jen- happy birthday! Hope this makes up a bit for the car troubles?  
**A/N: **This didn't turn out how I wanted it to, I don't think. But it's not _that_ bad. Hopefully. Maybe. Yeah. --;;

* * *

Excited hands fumble with the envelope, trying to break the seal but failing. Ganjyu curses. "Uh, just one second," he says, looking briefly at Hanatarou, who's waiting eagerly beside him for news of Ganjyu's division assignment.

The fourth division shinigami smiles back nervously, and with his hands folded together in front of him, waits to hear.

Ganjyu takes a deep breath, stilling his fingers and counting to ten before trying again. He manages to break the wax seal on the letter.

"Well?" Hanatarou asks, sounding even more nervous than Ganjyu.

The larger man's his hands shake as he unfolds the paper.

"Shi-Shiba Ganjyu will report immediately for duty as a shinigami in the service of seireitei…" he begins, pausing to give Hanatarou a shaky little smile while the other boy beams at him proudly.

"...and… Zaraki … Kenpachi of the eleventh division. Active duty begins at six am Monday morning."

He blinks.

"Ah…that's…that's wonderful Ganjyu-san," Hanatarou breathes, though his expression looks halfway between a smile and a grimace as he says it. "All your hard work in the academy has finally paid off now, ne?"

Ganjyu slaps a palm to his forehead. "Oh god."

Hanatarou pats his hand comfortingly. "I'm sure it won't be that bad."

Ganjyu sighs. "I don't get it. Why the hell would they stick me in with a division fulla goons, eh?"

Hanatarou blinks.

"I mean, I ain't just some loud, good for nothin' thug, right?"

"Of course not."

"And I actually _know_ my damned kidoh. Hell, Neesan taught me stuff they don't even _teach_ in the academy. And I can read _and_ spell and…"

Hanatarou continues to pat the larger man's arm gently. "You're very gentle," he assures the Shiba softly. "And very smart."

Ganjyu pauses at the unadulterated praise. "Er…well, you don't gotta go _that_ far… I was just, that is…"

"I think it's because Ganjyu-san is such a good fighter," Hanatarou poses after a moment, smiling sweetly up at the new recruit. "It's because you're so strong that all your teachers think you can do well in the eleventh division."

Ganjyu looks skeptical. "Nah, it couldn't be that… could it?"

"I think so," Yamada says, averting his eyes shyly as he says it. "I um… I'll feel very safe knowing Ganjyu-san is fighting for everyone in the uh…the strongest division in seireitei."

Ganjyu flushes. "Now you're just tryin' to make me feel better."

"No!" Hanatarou assures him with surprising vehemence. "I'm very happy to know you'll be fighting alongside us! And…and I'll…" he trails off, looking sheepish. "Well, you know."

For the first time since hearing the news, Ganjyu smiles. "No, I don't know," he pushes, voice dropping ever so slightly. "You'll what?" he reaches down and chucks Hanatarou's chin, gently forcing the smaller boy to look up and meet his gaze.

"I'll… I'll always be there to take care of Ganjyu-san's injuries," Hanatarou finishes, just a little bit of mischief creeping into his eyes as he says it.

Ganjyu blinks.

And then grabs Hanatarou and pulls the little guy against him, wrapping an arm around him so he can administer a fierce noogie. "Why you little…I oughta... oh you're gonna pay for that one."

Hanatarou struggles though he's laughing the entire time, and Ganjyu isn't feeling really angry at all as he musses Yamada's hair with his knuckles. "Think that's funny do ya? Che. Little brat."

When they're done rough-housing, Hantarou's cheeks are pink and flushed with laughter, and he looks up at Ganjyu adoringly. "I think you'll do well no matter what division you're in," he murmurs truthfully this time, leaning against Ganjyu's shoulder to catch his breath.

"Yeah. Well. There's one good thing that comes outta this, I suppose," Shiba harrumphs, though he wraps an arm around Hanatarou anyway.

"What's that?"

"I can make sure those idiot thugs don't lay a single grimy finger on ya ever again."

Hanatarou chuckles a little. "Really?"

"Well yeah. I can break their stupid faces if they even try it," Ganjyu promises, removing his hand so he can punch his knuckles together, an anticipatory gleam in his eye. "Anyone tries to bully ya, just tell me. Che. I'll kick all their worthless asses."

Hanatarou smiles at his protector and secretly thinks to himself that the eleventh division is going to be the perfect place for Ganjyu.

**END**


	307. 11th Division: Iba

**307.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 2: Iba  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Iba  
**Word Count:** 281  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers at the end for Ch 206  
**Summary:** Continuation of #303 (Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 1: Study)- Sachikawa talks to seventh division vice-captain Iba Tetsuzaemon.  
**Dedication:** Jab- who I roped into drawing me doujin. XD Also for kiradouji as thanks for the cute ShunxUki. I'll write a better dedication for you once I'm not so addled. --;;  
**A/N: **Urgh, I hate this one. --;; I think I'm too stuffed with food to be funny. --;;

* * *

"So, fukutaichou, you were once a member of Zaraki's eleventh division, am I correct?"

Iba blinked. "Er. Yeah."

"Can you tell us about any experiences there that stand out in your memory?"

"The hell is this about?" Tetsuzaemon asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He crossed his arms and looked down at the smaller man, hackles automatically raised. "This about those naked pictures from first year in the ranks? 'Cuz I'm tellin' ya right now, I don't respond well ta blackmail."

Sachikawa blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Ya heard me. Whatever it is ya want from me, least I ain't alone in those damn photos so it ain't just…"

"No, please, you're quite mistaken! It has nothing to do with…_anything_ naked! I assure you Iba-san, this is something else completely."

"Oh. Well." The vice-captain's shoulders relaxed immediately. And then, "So… what _is _this about?"

Sachikawa looked slightly incredulous. "You mean… you didn't… you didn't get the notification either?"

Iba looked thoughtful. "Mail?"

Sachikawa nodded. "From Center 46. It was sent out days ago. "

Realization dawned on the vice-captain. "Oh!"

Sachikawa nodded. "Yes, so you see…

"_That's_ what the Cs on the letters stand for. Was wonderin' 'bout that."

Sachikawa looked relieved at Iba's enthusiasm. "Yes, precisely. So. Then… you did read the letter?"

Iba uncrossed his arms. "Nope."

"N-no?"

The vice-captain shook his head. "Nope. But uh… maybe the interns did?" Tetsuzaemon grinned at the thought. "Maybe you can talk ta them instead…"

The analyst sighed.

This was going well. Really, it was. He could already see a pattern between Zaraki's approach and that of his former subordinate's.

That was a start, right?

Right.

…he hoped that Itsuki was having better luck with Abarai-taichou.

**END**


	308. First Comes Love

**308.**

**Title:** First Comes Love  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 529  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Companion to #263 (Deeper Meaning)- Yumichika is such a showoff.  
**Dedication:** mikken, for the awesome Shuumi fic, and Jen for putting up with all my crazy fanart requests and drawing me doujin. LOVE FOR YOU BOTH.  
**A/N: **SCMOOPY. It's because I'm lethargic from all the food that is available to me, I think. I'm too content to write anything other than everyone else being content too. --;;

* * *

He catches Yumi admiring the way the light catches the little diamonds of his ring all the time, and while his heart swells to know that he did good and picked out something Yumichika likes, it still embarrasses him a little bit, because whenever Yumi does it, it's always when someone else can definitely see him.

"Oh my, that's lovely," the girls would swoon when they saw it, gathering around Ayasekawa and burbling in excited admiration. Thrilled, Yumichika would twitter and agree wholeheartedly with them, turning briefly to look at Shuuhei through his lashes with that smug little smirk of his, the one that's guaranteed to drive people mad. Hisagi knows he's always goes a bit crazy inside whenever he sees it.

Then the admirers would always turn to him too, pink-cheeked and envious, murmuring "My, Hisagi-san… you have such good taste!"

Shuuhei would twitch uncomfortably under their scrutiny and avert his eyes to the ground, muttering, "Well…he lets me know what he likes, so I just go from there…"

They giggle and whisper amongst themselves at his answer, and when Hisagi catches his lover's eye, Shuuhei can distinctly see that Yumi is laughing at him.

He thinks he'd be annoyed with the other man's antics-- his need to show off, his love of making the usually calm vice-captain squirm, his affinity towards bragging-- except that when Yumi does it he looks so glowingly happy that Shuuhei can't hold it against him.

Yumichika sparkles with satisfaction in the loveliest way when he's doing those things, and who is Shuuhei to complain when he's the one left with his jaw hanging at the sight, right?

He suspects there's a part of himself that enjoys it almost as much as Yumi does, if for different reasons. Though the questions do grow a bit tiresome after the fourth or fifth incident like this.

"Did he pick out the right size?" the girls would ask.

"Of course. It was a perfect fit," Yumi would assure them, flipping his hair contentedly and stretching his hand out further to show how the jewels sparkled.

"Oh, that's very impressive!" they would exclaim, giving Shuuhei another one of those looks over their shoulders, collectively.

He always just hunkers down and wills the redness from his face and ears.

"It's such a classy style…not one of those overly-large, gaudy sorts…"

"Yes, very elegant!"

"He has quite the eye for a man, doesn't he?"

"Oh, he must love you so much!"

Shuuhei sighs and trains his eyes on Yumi, who always basks in the attention, who always smiles so brilliantly that at the sight, Shuuhei supposes everything is okay, so long as the other man is happy.

He finds his equilibrium returning whenever he ignores the fangirls and focuses on the person who's really important, the one who's flaunting his treasure and reveling in the praise that's directed at Hisagi (and Yumi, of course, for catching Hisagi).

But whatever.

It's alright, so long as Yumi is happy. And with a calming breath, Shuuhei just sits back and relaxes, watching his lover steal the show.

Eventually, the womens' comments don't even register with him anymore.

"So…when's the wedding?"

Shuuhei chokes.

**END**


	309. In Your Dreams

**309.**

**Title:** In Your Dreams  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxKira, IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count:** 650  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Kira dreams of Gin.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel because I want to see if I can make you flail and still do Ikkira XD. Also for swinku for being my Ikkira art pimp. XD  
**A/N: **Okay, my digestive system is kicking in now and I'm not so full and complacent, I don't think. Still sluggish though. --;; But yeah. A little angstier than I'm used to for Ikkira? It had to happen sooner or later. Yes. Plus, Kira is gorgeous when he cries. Er… anyway.

* * *

He dreams some nights, of memories. He dreams of phantom fingers brushing through his hair and of the lips of a ghost, whispering his name against the back of his neck before teeth bite down and he cries out.

And he knows exactly what sorts of things he dreams of, even if he forgets about it in the morning, because when he wakes up, Ikkaku is always looking at him with a furrowed brow, watching over him though the other man says nothing, asks nothing about what filled Izuru's dreams.

It shames him when he thinks about it, makes him angry even, because he thinks his dreams should be full of Madarame now, and not the memory of the specter that held him captive inside himself for all those years before.

He's angry with himself, for dreaming of Ichimaru's touch.

And every time he does it, Ikkaku simply looks at him from his side of the bed, brow furrowed and thoughtful, but never saying anything, never asking, never angry.

Izuru thinks he's a little bit angry about that, too.

He wants to explain himself, but Ikkaku doesn't seem to want to know. He wants to apologize for causing Madarame to worry, but the other man doesn't seem to need that either. He doesn't ask for anything at all from Izuru.

It's as puzzling to Kira as the reasons behind his dreams.

The next time it happens he wakes up with tears in his eyes and his former captain's name on his lips, a quiet gasp that manages to shatter the quiet of their bedroom with the same power as a scream.

Breathing hard, he turns to his side in search of something, he's not sure what, and finds Ikkaku there, with his head propped up on the palm of one hand, looking at Kira with his furrowed, thoughtful brow.

He doesn't say anything.

With a soft cry, Kira launches himself against Ikkaku's chest and sobs his heart out.

He feels Madarame's arms wrap around him after a moment, though they only make him want to cry more. He buries his nose against Ikkaku's collarbone and wishes he could get even closer, somehow, and just hide in the other man's embrace, away from whatever dream will haunt him next.

"Shhh," Ikkaku hushes in his ear. "It's alright."

"I… he won't leave my head," Izuru manages after a moment, hiccupping pathetically as he fists the material of Ikkaku's shirt. It still feels like Gin's hands are all over him, clutching him unmercifully, unwilling to release him even awake. "I'm sorry…I…he's always…"

"Yeah… I know. It's alright." Ikkaku whispers. "I get it."

"You don't," Kira tells him, quickly. "I don't… I don't feel like… it's just…"

"I get it," Madarame repeats anyway, one hand rubbing soothing circles at the small of the blonde's shivering back. "No one expects you to forget just like that."

"W-why…why aren't you angry with me?" Kira questions, feeling more tears sting his eyes as he clutches desperately at the other death god. "Why don't you ask, or say… don't you… don't you…"

"Don't you dare say I don't care," Ikkaku interrupts in warning, voice going low--dangerous almost.

Izuru shudders.

"Then… then why?"

"'Cuz I know you'll dream of me when you're ready to," Ikkaku murmurs into his ear, moving to stroke the blonde's hair gently as he holds him. "You'll dream of me when you're ready to and when you do, you won't dream about anything else, baby," he declares determinedly, though his touch remains unmistakably tender while Kira shakes against him. "You're head'll be so full of me you won't know what to do with yourself. When you're ready."

The blonde sniffles and burrows closer to his new lover, thinking to himself that he can't wait for that promised day.

Because even as Ikkaku holds him, Kira can still feel Ichimaru's phantom fingers raking his skin.

**END**


	310. Group Date

**310.**

**Title:** Group Date  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, IkkakuxKira, hints of RenjixByakuya  
**Word Count:** 967  
**Warning/s: **Er, minor spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** sequel to #272 (A Captain's Duty) and loosely related to #301 (A Simple Game of Cards)- Byakuya is roped into another game of cards.   
**Dedication:** koyami, thanks for the art! Also thanks to notthewhip for the feedback that kind of fed this one.  
**A/N: **It's silly and random, and I really should be doing better, but I am so lazy lately. ;; Oh, and I still have tons of 11th division stuff to write. O.o

* * *

Byakuya had never known of anything called a "triple-date". Which was probably why it had been possible to rope him into one in the first place, he supposed. Ayasekawa had been smiling at him reassuringly and saying that a "group outing" was exactly what he needed to try and get to know Renji better, as agreed upon in their last meeting.

Byakuya had been about to remind the other man that they'd never officially agreed upon anything during that meeting, but before he'd been able to say anything Yumichika had flashed a smile with teeth and said, "Renji is so lucky to have such a caring and devoted captain. Not like Shuuhei did, or Kira did. No wonder he's so eager to get to know Kuchiki-taichou better himself."

Byakuya's protests had died in his throat at that, though he'd had the distinct impression that he was being manipulated somehow.

And so here they were now, sitting around a table in Hisagi and Ayasekawa's home, playing cards.

Ayasekawa had planted himself firmly in Hisagi's lap and declared them a team. Hisagi had very obligingly wrapped his arms around Yumichika, rested his chin on the other man's shoulder, and with a look of resigned contentment on his face, let the pretty shinigami run the show.

Kira had laid his head on Ikkaku's shoulder and asked sweetly, "Can we be a team too?"

Ikkaku had blushed slightly, looked back adoringly, and nodded.

Renji made a noise of disgust and took his seat, while Byakuya blinked and wondered how well exactly, he was supposed to get to know Renji.

"Do you know how to play?" Ayasekawa asked, playing the good host and seeing to every one of Byakuya's needs.

"Yes," he responded in all honesty.

He ignored the blatantly surprised expression his vice-captain shot at him.

"Wonderful!" Ayasekawa beamed, leaning back in his vice-captain-shaped chair happily. "Let's play then, shall we?"

Byakuya felt a little better about being manipulated when he began to win rather consistently, with some help from the things he'd learned from Urahara in his youth, of course.

Everyone was suitably impressed before long, though Byakuya was certain that if they had been playing for actual money, he would have been able to triple the Kuchiki-family fortune given the amount of concentration they were putting into the game.

Yumichika, eyes gleaming with delight, seemed to have a Hisagi-monster permanently attached to the side of his throat and Ikkaku kept making random strange noises that made Byakuya suspect foul-play beneath the table despite Izuru's convincing expression of utter innocence.

Renji's clenched jaw served to confirm his suspicions, and Byakuya might have felt uncomfortable with all of that going on around him had he not been vaguely amused with Abarai's reactions. Especially considering how confident Renji normally was when it came to most other things.

How interesting.

As the night wore on Renji seemed to grow more and more agitated, though Byakuya couldn't imagine why. He avoided eye-contact with his captain and always glared at Yumichika or Izuru when they asked the sixth division captain a question.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Several hands into the game, when the sixth division captain's knee unintentionally brushed the redhead's hand under the table and Renji went rigid beside him, Byakuya supposed he knew very well after all, what was going on here.

Abarai turned slightly red in the face. It persisted for two more hands.

Byakuya politely pretended not to notice.

Later, when the sixth division captain excused himself given that he had a lot of work to catch up on come morning, Renji hastily volunteered to accompany him back to the division. They were seen off with smiles and waves while the redhead glared at his friends, mumbling something Byakuya couldn't make out before following his captain out the door.

On the walk back, Renji made a few awkward noises as they walked, and after a little ways, managed to murmur, "Oi... er, taichou."

"Yes?"

"Sorry about the guys…they uh, well you know. They're just dumbasses a lotta the time… so don't pay any attention to what they're sayin' or doin'…"

"I see." The sixth division captain arched a brow at his subordinate. "I do admit that I'm disappointed, Renji."

Abarai blinked. "Er… what, with them?"

"With you, actually."

Renji looked on the boundary between stricken and indignant. "Hey, they meant nothin' by it… and even still, they're my friends and all."

"That's all well and good, Renji, but as I said, I am more disappointed in you than anything. I don't particularly care about their actions."

Abarai blinked. "Er…ain't followin' you, taichou."

"I am saying, Renji, that in the future, if you wish to ask me out, then please do so yourself. While it was entertaining to see who could out-cheat who at cards, I feel they should know that given who taught me how to play, they would have no chance in the future and that it really is a waste of everyone's time given that they very obviously were concentrating on other things."

Renji blinked some more. "Wait…what?"

Byakuya sighed. "I am saying, Renji, that the next time, I think I would prefer just you and I."

The redhead stared. "What…really?" And then slowly, a smile bloomed on his face. "Really?"

"I said so, didn't I?"

Renji laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, excuse me for sayin' so, taichou, but uh, ya got a real good poker face there, and I just ain't real good at readin' it."

Byakuya allowed the ghost of a smile. "That's why we're supposed to be getting to know each other better, isn't it?"

Renji grinned. "Yeah?"

"Please don't make me repeat myself… again."

Abarai hastily wiped the stupid awe from his face. "Ah…yessir. Sorry, sir."

But he was still smiling.

**END**


	311. 11th Division: Renji

**311.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 3: Renji  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Renji, Ikkaku, Kenpachi  
**Word Count:** 516  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the SS arc and huge speculation on my part. As usual. XD  
**Summary:** Renji gets interviewed. And asks some important questions of his own.   
**Dedication:** kaeruchan, meallanmouse, shinigamikender and tsukishine for letting me spam them shamelessly. LOVE FOR YOUR WRITING.  
**A/N: **Because I feel an overwhelming sense of family in the Bleach fandom tonight, with everyone opening up their journals to requests. Especially from big slackers like me. --;;

* * *

"So, uh…Itsuki. What's your uh… what's your favorite color?"

The analyst blinked. "Excuse me?"

Renji shrugged. "I asked ya what your favorite color was."

Fujii Itsuki stared. "Yellow."

"Oh. Well. 'kay. Your turn."

"Um, Abarai-taichou, I don't think you quite understand how this works."

Renji frowned. "What, it's my turn again?"

"No… in this interview, I'm asking _you_ the questions."

Renji snorted. "That ain't hardly fair. How come I can't ask you anything back?"

"No, please don't get the wrong impression. You're welcome to ask me whatever you'd like… I would just… prefer if you kept it relevant to the topic, is all."

The new fifth division captain's brow furrowed. "That so?"

"Yes, if you please."

"Well, I suppose I can do that. So anyway. Your turn."

Itsuki sighed. "Um… well, please explain to me any unique experiences you had in the eleventh division under Zaraki Kenpachi."

The redhead thought about that for a moment. "Er… I met Ikkaku."

Itsuki lit up. "Ah, yes! The new third division captain. Wonderful. Tell us about him. And er, all the strong bonds of kinship you built under Zaraki's leadership together. And how you did it, of course."

"Talk about Ikkaku huh? Well…Ikkaku's…weird. I guess. Waxes his head and stuff. Ain't natural. Blind a fella just lookin'…"

"That's not what I mean, Abarai-taichou. Erm… how did you two meet and become friends?"

"Oh. Well. First night in the division, Ikkaku came up to me an' poked me in the chest and asked me why some pansy fifth division pet of Aizen-taichou's would transfer to the eleventh."

"Yes… and then?"

"So I punched him."

Itsuki blinked.

"And then he punched me back. And we did that for a while, I suppose, 'til I couldn't hardly see outta one eye anymore and the inside of my mouth was all cut up from scrapin' against my teeth. Bastard has a mean left, I'll give him that. But I gave him one helluva bloody nose, don't get me wrong. Totally held my own."

Itsuki's excitement fell. "So… so you hate each other?"

"What? Naw. Was like sayin' hello, or somethin'. Except with breakin' bottles and furniture and stuff."

"And… no one…no one tried to _stop_ you?"

"Well, Zaraki-taichou came in then…"

"And _he_ stopped you?"

"Yep."

The analyst sighed in relief and made a note in his little book. "Wonderful. How did he…go about doing that?"

"Well, first he yelled real loud that Yachiru was takin' a nap and then slammed our heads together."

Itsuki's jaw dropped.

Renji chuckled at the memory. "Man. I was unconscious for twelve hours after that hit… but after me'n Ikkaku woke up, he bought me beer'n said I wasn't so bad."

The analyst stared.

After a moment, Renji straightened in his chair, looking thoughtful. "So… er, letsee… on topic… on topic. Oh, I know. What's your favorite kinda beer?"

"Um… I don't drink."

Renji frowned, disbelieving. "What, really?"

Itsuki, looking like he couldn't quite believe what was happening here himself, shook his head slowly.

The redhead looked boggled. "Huh. Well, whatever." And then, "Okay, your turn again."

**END**


	312. What I Like About You

**312.**

**Title:** What I Like About You  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 96 (weird, huh? XD)  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but lots of fluff!  
**Summary:** Yumichika has something important to ask Shuuhei.  
**Dedication:** kaeruchan, because despite her het affinity, she is one hell of a kick-ass yaoi writer. Inspiring!  
**A/N: **I've gotten so much Shuumi love tonight. I tear with joy. JOY!

* * *

"Ne, Shuuhei," Yumichika started, in one of those tones of voice that Shuuhei was learning to read as, "spoil me… _more!_"

"Hmmm?" the vice-captain asked sleepily.

"What's your favorite part about me?"

Shuuhei, exhausted, sighed internally and unconsciously tucked Yumichika a little bit closer against him, trying not to drift off before he could answer because that would mean a stern talking to in the morning. "'s the same thing as your favorite thing about you, baby."

Yumi beamed and snuggled closer at that answer. "Everything?"

Hisagi managed a half-conscious nod. "Yup. Everything."

"Yay. Goodnight."

"Night."

**END**


	313. Learning Curve

**313.**

**Title:** Learning Curve  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira, Kenpachi  
**Word Count:** 342  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc by association?  
**Summary:** associated with most of my past Ikkira stories, more specifically #298 (Transfer)- Ikkaku and Kira go on a mission.  
**Dedication:** swinku- feel better!  
**A/N: **SCHMOOOP. That's all I have to say.

* * *

It's cute to the point of being absolutely disgusting, Kenpachi thinks, as he watches Kira and Ikkaku doing their combined luck-luck dance before they're off to their latest mission, the third division leaders adding a little twirl and a dip into it before they finish and Kira dissolves into helpless laughter against his captain while Ikkaku shamelessly buries his nose into the crook of the blonde's throat and breathes in deep.

It really makes Kenpachi want to puke a little when he sees it, all that schmoopy-type, lovey-dovey, public-display-of-affection-ish happy-together-ness.

Even still, he can sense that there's an aura of anxiety surrounding the two as they prepare for battle, and Kenpachi thinks that maybe he ought to explain to the big bald idiot before they leave, that he isn't in the eleventh anymore and so he better realize that maybe the people in his division—say, Kira—wouldn't mind him losing so long as he always comes back in one piece.

But then, when he thinks about it more thoroughly, the eleventh division captain frowns to himself for indulging such a pansy-ass thought for even a second. Just because someone's waiting for you to come home doesn't give you the excuse to be a wimp. He knows that himself. So he decides that it's best just to go and tell the moron that he has even more reason _not_ to lose now.

He moves to make his presence known, to have a word with Ikkaku about that before they're off, except that before he can, Ikkaku murmurs something into Izuru's ear, and those big, sad eyes of the blonde's look back at him before he touches their foreheads together and nods, a worried, but knowing smile on his pretty face.

Ikkaku grins, always the tough guy, and chucks the vice-captain's chin tenderly before turning to his assembled corps and making the announcement to go.

Kenpachi grunts to himself and slinks back into the shadows, thinking that maybe Ikkaku's finally learned to figure something out for himself for once.

It's about damned time.

**END**


	314. 11th Division: Yumichika

**314.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 4: Yumichika  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yumichika, Shuuhei (and with some ShuuxYumi, of course XD)  
**Word Count:** 804  
**Warning/s: **Silliness. And stupidity. Vague spoilers (but not really) of the SS arc.  
**Summary:** vaguely related to #308 (First Comes Love) and directly related to #311(Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 3: Renji)- Yumichika is next.  
**Dedication:** kaeruchan- oh how you kick my ass. 11th division love! LOVE!  
**A/N: **I know, this one is rather mean. But Yumi is a gay of demonic charm, remember? YES! XD

* * *

"Well, I have to admit, Ayasekawa-taichou, that after everything I've seen and heard thus far, I wasn't expecting… well, you."

Yumichika beamed prettily from his captain's chair. "Well, I suppose no one could accurately anticipate _me._"

Sachikawa swallowed. "Um. Yes. Quite."

The new ninth division captain twittered. "Oh, and I do apologize for being so late to see you," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Um, that's no problem, taichou. I'm sure you were very busy…"

Ayasekawa's eyes gleamed. "Yes. I had… a lot to discuss with my vice-captain."

Sachikawa smiled back, relieved to finally meet someone who seemed serious about his job. "I see."

"So…what did you want to ask me?"

"Well… you're another success story out of the eleventh division, and we were wondering… if you wouldn't mind talking about your experiences there."

"Oh please… ask me anything you'd like," Yumichika urged, sparkling welcomingly.

Sachikawa, feeling a blush wash across his face, gulped and leaned backwards. "Um…o-of course. Thank you."

They talked pleasantly for a couple of hours, though before long it seemed that every answer Ayasekawa gave was about him and not Zaraki at all. Sachikawa supposed it would have helped if his questions hadn't gradually become…well, all about Ayasekawa in the first place.

The funny thing was, he was beginning to discover that he didn't _care._

"Oh my, Shunichi, you're far too kind," Yumichika laughed, showing off his neat, white teeth as he did. Sachikawa felt himself smiling back stupidly.

It was really very unprofessional of him.

But when Ayasekawa looked at him with that smile, he just couldn't bring himself to try and do anything to rectify it.

It was about dinnertime when Sachikawa was on the verge of taking a gamble and doing something he'd never done before in his long career under the employment of Soul Society's venerable court. He decided to try and ask one of his subjects whether they'd like to continue the conversation with him…over dinner.

"Um… Ayasekawa-san…"

"Oh, call me Yumichika."

Sachikawa blushed. "Er… well… Yumichika, I was wondering if you wouldn't…that is… if you'd like to…"

A knock on the door interrupted them, and beaming like he'd fully expected it, Yumichika eagerly shouted, "Come in!"

Sachikawa blinked as the ninth division vice-captain entered, an impossibly good-looking man who caught Ayasekawa's eyes as he came in and held them. "Hey, sorry to interrupt, but if we don't hurry we're gonna be late for dinner, babe. Then those idiots will just order without us and they'll inhale the food and by the time we get there…well, you know."

"We're almost done, love!" Yumichika assured the handsome man, and somehow, his smile seemed all the brighter for talking with him. "Just give us another second, okay?"

Sachikawa looked stricken.

"Um… okay." The vice-captain eyed the analyst for a moment, before looking back to Ayasekawa and frowning slightly. A significant look later and the other man left the room with a vaguely disapproving look, though Yumichika seemed unaffected by the whole exchange.

"Sorry about the interruption," the ninth division captain apologized, though he didn't look repentant in the least.

Sachikawa coughed. "Er…that was… that was your…vice-captain?"

"Yup!"

"And also your… um… your…"

"Boyfriend."

"Oh. I… see."

"So… you were saying?"

"Erm…it was nothing important. I um, best be going then. I wouldn't want you two to be late for dinner."

"Are you sure? Did you get everything you needed?"

"Er… yes, I'm quite sure. Um… well." Sachikawa stood. "Thank you for your time… and um… and well, thank you."

Yumi smiled sweetly from his chair. "No problem. Bye!"

Sachikawa left, catching the vice-captain's sympathetic expression as he rushed out of the ninth division headquarters, embarrassed beyond all words and probably with no information that would help further their study.

A few moments later, Shuuhei poked his head into Yumi's office, looking exasperated. "Oh Yumi," he started, "that was mean."

The new captain feigned innocence. "What was?"

Shuuhei gave him a significant look. "I knew it was suspicious when you got him talking to you for three whole hours."

Yumi beamed at him. "I didn't feel like doing paperwork anymore," he explained, lightly. "Ne…are you jealous?"

Shuuhei reached out and tugged the other man's hand out from where it was resting on his lap, fingers brushing confidently against the ring there. "Nope. Can't say that I am."

Yumi pouted. "Well, there goes three hours of hard work."

Shuuhei laughed. "You loved the attention." And then, "Did you at least give him some useful information?"

"Yup! He asked a lot of questions about me, after all."

Shuuhei sighed. "I see."

"What, you don't think that's useful?" Yumi sounded wounded.

"Well, it's more useful than anything he could get from Iba or Renji, I guess."

Yumi chuckled, eyes gleaming. "Oh, don't say that. I'm sure they were _very _helpful."

**END**


	315. Finding Neverland

**315.**

**Title:** Finding Neverland (and then Slaughtering it)  
**Rating:** PG-13 for Kenpachi's foul mouth and some um…disturbing images?   
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru  
**Word Count:** 567  
**Warning/s: **Strangeness. Crack Strangeness. I don't know why I wrote it, it just came out this way. --;; Not for Peter Pan lovers? Or sane people, really.  
**Summary:** Yachiru has a visitor at her window.  
**Dedication:** oh god, would anyone want crack this bad? O.o Um… how about to JaB, who drew the whole Rukia-pan thing? XD Or maybe to my brother, who was playing Kingdom Hearts while I was writing this and doing the Peter Pan stage. XD  
**A/N: **ou ever just start writing something and then it changes all on its own to something completely different? Well. This did that. And I am obviously in need of sleep. Or something. O.o

* * *

"Ken-chan! Ne, Ken-chan!" 

Zaraki grunted when he felt a familiar weight land on his chest. "Whad'dya want?" he muttered, swatting ineffectually at it and trying to get back to sleep.

"There was a shadow!" Yachiru exclaimed excitedly. "It flew in all by itself and was runnin' round my room with nothin' attached to it!"

"Yeah, I don't care. Get the hell offa me and lemme get some sleep, wouldja?"

Yachiru pouted. "But Ken-chan!"

"Look, didja kill it?"

She nodded. "Yup."

"Then it don't matter no more, do it?" He rolled on his side, and Yachiru scrambled until she was seated on his hip.

"But then there was a _boy_ in my room!"

Kenpachi began to wake up in earnest. "Huh?"

"A boy! He asked me if I'd seen the shadow, and then I told him I did, and that I caught it…he was so happy he flew in and asked me if I wanted ta go someplace with him!"

Kenpachi blinked. "Flew?"

"Yup! Flew!"

"So there was a boy in your room?"

Yachiru frowned, because Kenpachi was obviously not getting the most important parts of her story here. "He _flew_! And he asked me if I wanted to fly _with_ him."

"Yeah I'll bet he flew. High as a fuckin' kite, right?" Kenpachi grumbled, rubbing at his face tiredly. "You sure it wadn't a dream?"

"Nope! Wasn't a dream! Promise! So then… he flew in and asked if I'd wanna come with him, and if he could get his shadow back. But then I said I'd already killed it…"

Zaraki's brow furrowed as he tried to process what was going on here. "Waitaminute. He asked ya to go somewhere with him?"

Yachiru nodded. "Yup!"

The eleventh division captain's eyes narrowed. "What'd I tell ya 'bout goin' off with strangers?"

Yachiru looked proud with herself for remembering. "You said not ta!" she repeated faithfully.

"And?"

"And ta kill the bastard real slow like fer bein' a dirty rotten pervert and even suggestin' it!"

He rolled back onto his back so he could get a better look at her. She maneuvered back onto his chest.

"Well, didja?"

She beamed. "Yup, just now! He tried ta crawl out the window but I followed him out ta make sure he didn't get away or nothin'. Died a lot louder'n the shadow did though. Cryin' and stuff."

Kenpachi sighed. "Alright then. So what's the damn fuss?"

"He _flew_ Ken-chan!"

"So does a damn bird, but I don't come wakin' you up in the middle of the night every time I see one, do I?"

She pouted, but had to concede the point. "No."

"Well then. Go back to bed."

"Ne…Ken-chan?"

He was beginning to lose his patience. "The hell is it now?"

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

He frowned in disbelief. "What, you afraid or somethin'?"

She wrinkled her nose. "No. 'course not. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"There's blood all over my room."

He blinked. "Oh. Well. I guess that's okay then."

"Yay!"

She laid her head down on his chest and curled up like a cat right there. "Night Ken-chan!"

He grunted. "Night."

And as he drifted off, the eleventh division captain couldn't help but mutter to himself about these crazy kids today, and their fucked up stories.

He considered it merely a coincidence when the next morning, the division's cleaning crew complained about having to launder everything in fukutaichou's room.

**END**


	316. Stone Cold

**316.**

**Title:** Stone Cold  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ishida, Orihime (lightly IshiHime?)  
**Word Count:** 283  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the SS arc, but nothing important.  
**Summary:** Ishida's thoughts early in the Soul Society arc.  
**Dedication:** kaeruchan, because I harass her to write me ShuuxYumi and she deserves love for putting up with that. --;;  
**A/N: **Alright, so the request was IshiHime and the prompt is realization. I think I got it in there somewhere! ;; And I can't attest to how good this will be since I don't go for the IshiHime pairing myself, but I tried my best! Haha, sometimes I can't even write pairings I like myself very well, so I suppose we'll see how this goes over. Apologies in advance. --;;

* * *

He can be a stone-cold killer if it's to protect her, he thinks. 

Because there's just something about Inoue that makes it impossible for Ishida to imagine her mustering the intent to seriously wound anyone, even if it's a shinigami who's trying to kill them.

As strong as her abilities may be, as unique and wonderful, Ishida just cannot imagine how she would be, firing Tsubaki with the intent to seriously injure.

It just isn't her.

And while that is perfectly idyllic in its own way, while it's wonderful that she is so sweet and innocent that he can't imagine her hurting, let alone killing, someone else, it is also something that doubles the burden on Ishida's shoulders.

Because this is not a place where they are surrounded by friends.

This is not a place where they can freely walk.

Seireitei is dangerous for them right now, as proven by the recent fight against the kamaitachi. As a result of that battle, he realizes now that if he wants to keep Inoue as he sees her now, if he wants her to stay sweet and innocent and unable to properly hurt a fly while at the same time keep them both alive, that means that it's his responsibility.

It's all on him.

If she won't kill, if she can't muster up that intent, he has to.

It's a heavy burden for the Quincy, to become a killer for her sake.

But when she smiles apologetically at him as they dart side by side down the dark alleyways of Soul Society, he thinks that as heavy a burden as it may be, he can do it.

For her, he can be a stone-cold killer.

**END**


	317. By Degrees

**317.**

**Title:** By Degrees  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 204  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of…  
**Summary:** Shuuhei hates Yumichika.  
**Dedication:** tsukishine, shinigamikender and idiosyn- _other_ people requesting this pairing is also JOY to me. XD  
**A/N: **Thought about this on the trip back from Houston. It sounded so much better in my head, but I suppose that's the price of waiting 6 hours before you can write it down. I lost all the catchy lines. --;;

* * *

"I hate you," Shuuhei growled, wiping dirt from his face as he staggered to his feet and glared at the other death god. 

Ayasekawa, amused, looked back at the vice-captain with gleaming eyes as he sheathed his zanpakutou.

Shuuhei wondered why he agreed to spar with Yumichika everyday.

------------------

"I hate you," Shuuhei panted as he glared down at the smiling man beneath him, their naked bodies just barely touching.

He wanted nothing more than to fuck that arrogant little smirk right off of Ayasekawa's face.

When he woke up sweaty and alone in his bed instead, he cursed and tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

Shuuhei wondered why all his dreams were suddenly about the same thing every night.

------------------

"I hate you," Shuuhei muttered, averting his eyes when Yumi laughed at the vice-captain's awkward confession.

Chuckling, Ayasekawa laid his head on Hisagi's shoulder and loved how Shuuhei could come up with a grumpy little snipe like that all while he had his arms around the other man's waist.

"I like you too," the fifth chair murmured, smiling up at the other death god with eyes full of promise.

Shuuhei wondered if tonight, he could finally get those dreams to come true.

**END**


	318. Uplifted

**318.**

**Title:** Uplifted   
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Wabisuke, Hozukimaru (indirectly IkkakuxKira?)  
**Word Count:** 725  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc  
**Summary:** Strange accompaniment to anything IkkakuxKira I've written- Wabisuke cries out. Hozukimaru gets irritated.  
**Dedication:** I can honestly not think of anyone who would be entertained by this story. O.o Um… how about to the first person who comments? Haha  
**A/N: **Crack. YAY.

* * *

It had been both a relief and a shock when Wabisuke felt Shinsou's presence disappear from this plane of existence; the loss of the other zanpakutou's essence feeling as though a rope had suddenly come unraveled from about the younger sword. 

After that, though it had been easier to breathe, Wabisuke remembers that its world had become very lonely.

Kira did not speak with the weapon for a while afterwards either, though the zanpakutou could feel the confusion and brokenness of its master without having to directly communicate with Izuru. Kira's emotions at the time had indicated that he was deeply grieved at Ichimaru's departure.

In contrast, Wabisuke remembers feeling many things at the loss of Shinsou.

It had been with a mixture of stunning liberation and debilitating loneliness that Wabisuke greeted its new situation, and the sword spirit had almost wanted to blame Izuru for those varied and greatly opposing emotions, because if the young soul slayer had been born and bred to know what life was like without Shinsou's constant, solid presence, then it believed that it would know exactly how to go on existing in its world alone, now that the other zanpakutou was gone.

As it was, the only thing Wabisuke remembers being certain of at the time was its uncertainty, wondering whether it would be able to endure the strange silence it had been forced to face at Shinsou's departure for very long, even if the freedom had felt rather nice.

The fact that Izuru had seemed to cut off any direct communication with his sword hadn't helped the situation.

Days and weeks had passed by like that, and Wabisuke recalls feeling its loneliness building upon itself exponentially with time-- the combination of its master's neglect and the loss of the familiar presence that had been by its side since the young sword had first awakened to consciousness at the sound of its name.

Before long, Wabisuke had found itself crying out.

The other zanpakutou had heard Wabisuke's pitiful cries and sneered at it.

Only the most discontent of soul slayers ever call out like that, and the others, those who are well cared for and bonded strongly with their masters, see such an act as taboo. The wielder is marked as incompetent for letting a named blade fall so far while the sword itself is considered to be a brittle, useless spirit.

But even for the shame of it all, Wabisuke remembers that it had been unable to stop.

The loneliness had just been too great.

And then one day, after many of the other zanpakutou had turned their backs on its cries, Wabisuke remembers hearing a voice.

A response.

The young sword's heart had welled with hope as it strained to hear that answering call, wondering what kind being would dare speak to such a pathetic weapon in its greatest moment of need.

And so, with yearning so strong it had pervaded the grieving zanpakutou's very essence, Wabisuke remembers hearing—

"Holy_ fuck_, would you shut the hell up already?"

It had been so surprised that it remembers being rendered speechless.

And that, that is how Wabisuke met Hozukimaru.

Today, as a result of that fated meeting, there is a fierce and sometimes uncouth dragon at Wabisuke's side, breathing smoke and flame and all manner of obscenities at the other sword with its forked tongue and easily provoked fangs. And every time Wabisuke lifts its head to look up at its new companion for guidance, the other zanpakutou simply growls and snaps, "Oh stop bein' such a wimp, wouldja?"

Now, Wabisuke has to rely on its own power, its own decisions, its own faith in itself. There is no Shinsou wrapping around it anymore, no spear-god there to lend its power, to fight for or come to the other zanpakutou's rescue.

Now, there is simply Wabisuke, as Kira calls upon it to lift its head.

But even still, Wabisuke does not feel lonely or helpless without Shinsou there, if only because it knows now that no matter what, there is a faithful dragon always nearby, ready to scoff and mutter and say, "Wow you fucked up," when Wabisuke does, and "Told ya you could do it, ya wimp," when it can.

That knowledge makes it much easier for Wabisuke to spur itself forward.

And it's beginning to feel strong.

**END**


	319. Old Dogs, New Tricks

**319.**

**Title:** Old Dogs, New Tricks  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **11th division, vague mentions of GanjyuxHanatarou (thought could be seen as friendship?)  
**Word Count:** 659  
**Warning/s: **Vague but not really spoilers for the SS arc  
**Summary:** Indirectly connected to #298 (Transfer) and #314 (Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 4: Yumichika)- The eleventh division learns to cope with each new situation it's presented with.   
**Dedication:** Greg- your early birthday present, since I'm inspired today.  
**A/N: **I'm sure the tense is all effed up in this one, but I'm too tired from the ride back up to do any editing myself. I'll just rely on you guys, today more than usual.

* * *

The eleventh division is a division that lives up to its reputation. 

It's full of thugs.

But they're thugs with an honor code all their own, and while they admit to not being very book-smart most of the time, they know that in their own special ways, they learn the lessons they need to.

For instance, when Ikkaku beat the living shit out of half of the lower ranks all on his own in defense of Ayasekawa's lifestyle choices a few years back, the division members' bodies learned what it was like to say the wrong thing in front of the wrong person.

When, a week later, Ayasekawa heard from his best friend about the incident and personally volunteered to help nurse the wounded back to health, those being nursed learned that maybe they hadn't been as decided on their sexualities as they'd once thought.

In either case, from that day forward, derogatory terms regarding alternative lifestyle choices have no longer been heard amongst the eleventh division thugs, as crude as some of the other things they say may be.

The division has also learned not to discriminate by age or sex when facing an opponent. When its members were first introduced to Yachiru upon Zaraki's inauguration as the eleventh division captain, many of the senior officers had grumbled and growled about being usurped by a child who'd never even been to grade school, let alone the shinigami academy. They'd felt that it was Zaraki's inexperience as a new captain that led him to believe a young _girl_ could do the job of a seasoned, trained shinigami soldier.

And then Zaraki had let them play tag with Yachiru.

No one in the division has argued against her right to be a vice-captain since. And those who desired to become vice-captains themselves—i.e. Iba and Renji—chose to transfer out of the eleventh in order to do so rather than directly challenge Yachiru for her title.

Those are some of the examples in the past, of adjustments the thugs of the eleventh have been forced to make in order to better perform their duties as shinigami (and live).

Lately, the eleventh division is undergoing some more changes due to the shuffling of its members. Ikkaku has recently moved to the third division and Yumichika to the ninth as captains. The new recruits from the academy are streaming in, and once again, modifications need to be made to accommodate these sweeping shifts.

One such example follows.

Two weeks ago, some guy by the name of Shiba Ganjyu joined the eleventh division's ranks, a brutish-looking type street-thug who'd come into the division talking big off the bat.

Too big for a kid right out of academy, in many people's opinions.

He'd been warning everyone without blinking an eye, to keep their filthy paws off the fourth division from here on out. In particular, they were told to stay the hell away from some kid named Yamada.

At the time, those threats just hadn't sat right with the division's vets, because bullying the fourth had been an age old tradition of the eleventh's since the dawn of the gotei-13 itself.

Last week, those who had had a problem with Shiba's edicts made their protests known to Ganjyu up front and personal like, as eleventh members have always done.

This week, Ganjyu has been promoted, becoming the new third chair of the division.

It'll be hard to adjust their age old ways, but bruised and bloody, the eleventh division members have started the process towards change yet again.

They've learned to keep their filthy paws off of the fourth division from here on out. In particular, they're staying the hell away from some kid named Yamada.

Yes, the eleventh division may be full of thugs.

But at the same time, no one can say that they can't be taught to be civil folk given a solid, easy-to-understand lesson plan and a good, bloody beating.

**END**


	320. 11th Division: Ikkaku

**320.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 5: Ikkaku  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, with mentions of IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count:** 998  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the SS arc and Ch 206 by association.  
**Summary:** related to #298 (Transfer) and following #314 (Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 4: Yumichika)- Ikkaku's interview.  
**Dedication:** luneetsoleil- I don't know if this is funny at all, but it was supposed to be. ;; Hope you're feeling better!  
**A/N: **So… now I just need to do Yachiru, Kenpachi, and Ganjyu. Yes. And maybe Maki Maki if I feel up to it.

* * *

Kuroki Noburo blinked and tried not to stare at the amazing reflective properties of Ikkaku Madarame's head. 

"Somethin' the matter?" the captain asked, eyeing the twitchy analyst suspiciously.

"No, no, everything's fine. Um… shall we get started?"

"With what?"

Noburo blinked again, and it wasn't because of the glare this time. "The interview?"

Madarame paused. Looked thoughtful.

Noburo held his breath and hoped that _someone_ had read the mail in this division sometime this week.

Then realization dawned. "Oh! You're the bookish-type wimpy guys Iba was talkin' 'bout."

Noburo blinked. "Erm…"

"Guess I shoulda known, lookin' atcha. Alright then, ask me whatever, I guess. Though make it fast. I'm scheduled to meet Kira in the supply closet in an hour."

"Um. Okay."

Noburo didn't want to think about what a meeting in the supply closet entailed.

Though he supposed the blonde vice-captain who had smiled and escorted him here was pretty enough…

"Hey, wipe that look off yer face. I know what you're thinkin' about, ya perv."

Startled, the analyst hastily shook his head. "No, that is, I wasn't…"

Madarame grinned. "He is damned good looking though, ain't he?"

Noburo supposed he couldn't argue with that. "Yes, he's quite…"

Ikkaku's eyes narrowed. "Stay the hell away from him."

The analyst stared.

Ikkaku stared back. "Well?"

"Um of course. I wouldn't dream of…"

Madarame leaned back in his chair, looking bored. "Not that. You gonna ask me shit or what? 'Cuz I could just as well step up that closet meetin' to now if yer gonna waste my time."

The other man flushed with embarrassment. "Right. Sorry. I uh… well. Can you describe what experiences you had in the eleventh division that made it possible for you to become captain?"

The bald death god thought about it for a moment. And then said quite plainly, "Well, taichou threw a cup at my head."

Noburo stared. "Um…excuse me?"

"Zaraki-taichou threw a cup at my head. Left a welt for a coupla days."

In a conversation that hadn't been making much sense thus far, that made absolutely no sense at all. "You…became a captain…because Zaraki threw a cup at you?"

"And an inkwell," Ikkaku supplied helpfully. "Luckily that one missed though, lemme tell ya."

"That's… it?" Noboru couldn't quite hold back his astonishment.

Ikkaku nodded. "Pretty much. He uh, he also yelled some. Called me names."

"He did."

"Yup."

The analyst supposed it was time to change the subject. "Um… why don't you tell me about what it was like to be in the eleventh division?"

Ikkaku shrugged. "Same as most, I'd figure. Wake up, go to work, beat the bad guys up… beat each other up… go out'n get a beer afterwards, beat up the asshole who can't keep a civil tongue 'bout Yumi at the bar, carry each other back if we ain't passed out already, go ta sleep…wake up, do it again."

Noburo sighed, feeling equal parts lost and disbelieving at his subject's responses. "I see. And is that… how you run your division as well?"

"Pretty much. Few differences of course."

"What types of differences?"

The captain grinned. "Don't drink as much as I used to. Kira don't need some drunk asshole pawin' at him every night, ya know. Worth the trade though. I mean, you saw the guy, right?" Madarame whistled.

Noburo blinked, unsure about how to answer. "Um…yes, I did. He's very…"

Ikkaku's eyes narrowed. "Watch your filthy mouth, ya damn pervert."

The analyst's eye ticked. "Er… sorry?"

"Yeah, you better be." And then, as if a switch had been flipped, Ikkaku relaxed back into his chair again. "Anyway, what else ya wanna know?"

Feeling his eye twitch again, the young analyst took a deep, calming breath. "Right. Um…" he scanned his list of prepared questions. "Ah. What would you say is the most valuable thing you learned while in the service of Zaraki Kenpachi?"

Ikkaku grinned. "That's easy. My luck-luck dance."

The analyst grit his teeth. "A…dance. The most important thing you learned from Zaraki was a dance?"

Ikkaku glared. "He didn't _teach_ it to me. You think taichou could come up with that lil bit of brilliance? Hell son, I looked up a bunch of symbolic _meanings_ and put that dance together _myself_. Saved me a bunch of times from some deep trouble. Best damned thing I ever made my entire time as a shinigami, I do say so myself."

"And you honestly feel that it… has helped change the outcome of your life?"

"Well yeah. I'm pretty damn lucky. I mean, you see this office? This is a damn big office. And you saw Kira earlier, and well, he's a damn fine lookin' man. I mean, you _saw_ him, right?"

Noburo supposed it was time to try his other option. "No, I didn't really…"

Ikkaku glared dangerously. "Shut yer damn blasphemous mouth. You'd only be so lucky if someone that hot looked at ya twice."

The other man's eye ticked again. "I… this… I don't quite…"

Ikkaku propped his feet up on his desk, looking at Noburo like nothing had happened. "Ya don't what? C'mon 'buro-kun, be a man huh? Spit it out."

The analyst clenched his teeth and counted backwards from ten. "I um… pardon me if I'm wrong, taichou, but are you all being completely facetious with us about this study?" he queried, sounding anxious. "I've spoken with Shunichi and Itsuki. I've read their data. And I've heard their stories about speaking with your former teammates as well. And I just can't_ begin_ to fathom that any of what we've collected thus far is _accurate_. I mean… it's… impossible. It has to be. So… I just want to know whether this is all a big conspiracy amongst you gentlemen. Because I can't for a moment believe that this can be real."

Ikkaku simply looked at Noburo levelly throughout the analyst's little outburst, and on the question, furrowed his brow and frowned severely.

Silence.

And then, "The hell does 'facetious' mean?"

**END**

**-----**

Okay, I'm going to use this space for some shameless self-promotion, because a couple of artist friends and I have** a doujinshi **circle called Division 14 and we're planning to release an anthology type of book in time for AX this summer. So far the work has seven new stories from me (haha maybe more in the future? I don't know). I guess I just wanted you all to be on the lookout for it (we'll be selling online too, I'll post links when I can). Hopefully this will work! Anyway, please support us, and thanks again for reading my stories.


	321. Like Royalty

**321. **

**Title:** Like Royalty  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Urahara, Yoruichi  
**Word Count:** 912  
**Warning/s: **Rampant speculation as to Urahara's past, but no spoilers I can think of.   
**Summary:** Flashback fic- lifestyles of seireitei's rich and famous.  
**Dedication:** Beck, because she likes monopolizing Urahara and Yoruichi's stories. :P  
**A/N: **For Urahara's birthday and because I'm lazy, Yoruichi's the day after. XD But um… it's just…sap, I guess. Yay. --;;

* * *

The end of the year has always been a special time in seireitei, not only because a brand new year is approaching, but also because two of the four noble families have the good fortune of being able to celebrate the births of their heirs on the same long night. 

This combination of birthdays and New Year's for Soul Society's richest families has made for very lavish celebrations, to say the least.

Kisuke and Yoruichi have always taken these events in stride, opening the gifts given to them by guests to their households' extravagant parties-- though the presents are more for the purpose of showing off the givers' wealth than for the benefit of the recipients—the two of them behaving in the properly (fake) delighted way with over-acted thank yous and shamelessly superficial smiles.

They dance and mingle and participate in banter with attendees like the good hosts they are, and even cut their joint cake together, dishing it out to the guests personally.

Before they eat, Urahara always gives a gracious, emotionally moving speech that is completely facetious, though no one but Yoruichi (and admittedly, Byakuya) can detect it. Kisuke smiles slyly from under his unruly bangs and makes his toasts, proceeding to insult everyone in the room with such easy charm that they don't realize that they're being mocked to their faces while he's doing it.

Yoruichi always grins and seconds his declarations, touching her glass to his and winking at the young Kuchiki Byakuya, who is torn between amusement at the pairs' antics and disgust with the guests' vacuous acceptance of Kisuke's double-edged words.

The parties always go until after midnight to properly honor Yoruichi's birthday, the first day of the year, and after the bell tolls its arrival, the guests begin trickle out slowly, making their excuses now that their obligations to the Urahara and Shihouin clans have been met for the evening.

But by then, Kisuke and Yoruichi are both gone anyway.

It might have been considered rude, the guests of honor leaving their own party before it is completely through, but the funny thing about the nobility is, nobody ever really notices.

Once their mandatory lavish gifts have been given and acknowledged, once their presence has been counted by all the other families, Kisuke and Yoruichi become the farthest things from their minds.

It's all about appearances, after all.

So a little while after midnight every year, just as the big party is ending, Kisuke and Yoruichi sneak out of the ballrooms together. They meet in the chill winter air of the yard, out where it is quiet, where it is simple and the only stars present are the ones twinkling overhead.

Kisuke smiles and it's not calculating, and Yoruichi happily punches him in the shoulder because no one can glare at her and tell her to behave as a young lady should.

"Hey, I got you something," he always says.

And she always smiles. "Yeah?"

"Yup." And he'll hand her a small box, or a tiny bag, or something oddly shaped. His gift to her is always his latest and greatest creation. "Happy birthday."

She takes it and doesn't open it right off, but says, "Thanks," instead.

And then she reaches into her own pocket and pulls out her gift for him. It's her own latest and greatest creation as well, and she tells him, "Happy birthday, even if it's a bit late," when she gives it to him.

He grins and then they both count to three in their heads before they tear apart the wrapping paper.

Their gifts to one another are never nearly as expensive or lavish as the ones they received earlier at the party. There are no diamonds fit for young princesses or clothes to make properly respectable young gentlemen of good standing. They never exchange gold or rare furs, never buy one another decorative antiques or exchange priceless artifacts.

This year is no different.

Yoruichi arches an amused brow as she examines the vial of dark, viscous liquid Kisuke has gifted her with this time. The young scientist simply shrugs and says, "I was actually working on a concoction to quadruple your endurance in battle, but it ended up being a pretty wicked plant food instead."

She snorts. "My orchids thank you," she says dryly.

He laughs and holds up her gift to him, the seal of the sacred armory catching the starlight and shining bright. "And this?"

Her eyes gleam. "To enhance Benihime's shielding abilities. It's my first try at something like this so it only lasts for about an hour. Just tap it with your reiatsu when you fight." She grins. "I know you need all the help you can get to protect yourself considering the sheer number of people you piss off regularly at academy."

He doesn't deny it, tucking the gift into his jacket pocket. "Thanks," he says, sincerely.

They share a long, knowing look with one another.

They are both heirs to two of the four great noble families in Soul Society, and as such, every year for their birthdays, lavish parties with huge feasts and costly presents are thrown in their honor, a parade of the richest, most famous names of seireitei.

They are graced with the presences of governing officials, prominent businessmen, noble elders, and renowned warriors. They're given gifts fit for kings and honored as gods.

Regardless of all that, their favorite thing about their birthdays is always each other.

**END**


	322. Gambling Man

**322. **

**Title:** Gambling Man  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **RenjixByakuya   
**Word Count:** 308  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Renji takes his chances.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- I will probably be making you draw these two next. YES. XD  
**A/N: **I don't know where this came from, I just felt like some RenxBya.

* * *

He asked himself if he was feeling lucky over dinner, and when the check came, he took a deep breath and tried it, picking the paper up before Byakuya could. The readhead's fingers brushed over the other man's briefly as he snatched the bill to safety. 

"Er… my treat," he explained, looking tentatively across the table at the older man.

Byakuya's eyebrow shot up at that, but after a moment he leaned back in his chair. "Alright."

Renji grinned.

Later, he asked himself if he was feeling lucky again as they walked side-by-side through one of the little paths running through the park. When the breeze he was waiting for blew past them, he closed his eyes, counted backwards from ten, and leaned his shoulder against Byakuya's as casually as possible.

"Er…bit chilly," he explained, looking sideways at the other man.

Byakuya's eyebrow arched again, but it dropped more quickly than it had earlier, and before long, Renji felt just the slightest return pressure against his shoulder.

He beamed.

When they returned to headquarters later into the night and Renji was walking his captain back to his quarters, the redhead looked at the other man and wondered how his luck was holding up now. They stopped in front of Byakuya's door, where the sixth division captain turned and looked at his subordinate.

Renji, not quite able to meet the other man's eyes, stared at his throat instead.

"Um…so… I uh… that was a real nice time, taichou," he began, swallowing as he found himself unintentionally mesmerized by that milk-white neck.

Byakuya's eyebrow shot up again at Renji's awkward stuttering, and before the redhead could continue, the older man leaned forward and very calmly kissed him.

When they pulled apart, Byakuya's eyes were glittering. "Do you feel lucky now, Renji?"

Renji, breath stolen from his lungs, managed a smile.

**END**


	323. Substitution

**323. **

**Title:** Substitution  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxIl Forte, Aizen, mentions of GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 436  
**Warning/s:** Minor spoilers for the Arrankar Arc as it is…  
**Summary:** Gin always liked the pretty ones.   
**Dedication:** tokkitsu for catering to me like, woah today. Love for you!  
**A/N: **Dude, I don't know where the hell this came from, it just kind of hit me that damn, Il Forte is pretty. And since we all know Aizen is banging Ulquiorra, so… well. Gin hasn't been doing anything lately…sooo. XD

* * *

Aizen knows Gin has been missing his cute little vice-captain for a long time now, ever since they'd left Soul Society and all its comforts behind.

He also knows that Gin likes the pretty ones best, the ones with soft hair and smooth, pale skin. He likes sharp cheekbones and gentle eyes, thick lashes and long, graceful necks.

Aizen knows all of the things Ichimaru likes best in his toys, just like he knows that the silver-haired shinigami misses playing with little Kira Izuru now that they're so far away from the lovely young vice-captain. So with the benevolence of a loving father, the elder captain decides that the least he can do is help Gin forget about the sweet little blonde crying for him at home.

He makes Il Forte with all those things Gin likes best in mind, chooses to make this new young one not as a step forward in his search of ultimate power like the others, but instead, as a gift of gratitude to someone who has been willing to sacrifice everything he loves best to be here by Aizen's side. And so, on the day of his gift's completion, Aizen presents the young bull to Ichimaru, asking the younger man, "Well? What do you think of this one, Gin?"

Gin smiles as he looks at the newborn Arrankar, the young one glaring up at him defiantly because he knows that he is this man's present and that hard looks are all the protest he will be allowed.

"He's very pretty, taichou," Ichimaru responds appreciatively, reaching out and gently taking a strand of long white hair between his fingers, rolling it back and forth between the digits as he speaks. "But… too defiant still, I think. In his eyes, ne?"

Aizen laughs, deep and rich, and pats the other death god on the back in a friendly, familiar way. "Well, I figured it would be no fun if he was already broken for you, Gin."

At that, Ichimaru's smile grows more sinister somehow, and he flips his wrist, releasing Il Forte's hair and wrapping his hand around the underside of the bull's jaw so quickly that the Arrankar's eyes can't follow it.

With the strength of just one arm, he drags Il Forte up towards him with unexpected cruelty.

Surprised at the smiling man's strength, the Arrankar chokes as he is forced to his knees, his head tilted upwards submissively as Ichimaru smiles down.

"You know, taichou," the silver-haired man starts conversationally, "he kind of reminds me of Kira-chan. The cheeks, I think."

Aizen's voice is full of warmth. "I know."

**  
END**


	324. Capability

**324. **

**Title:** Capability  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Hitsugaya, Matsumoto  
**Word Count:** 240  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of that matter, though if you don't know what Toushirou's zanpakutou abilities are this'll spoil that. ;;  
**Summary:** Histugaya can handle most things.   
**Dedication:** for meallanmouse for letting me bug her for my OTP. XD Also, for nelmakiantix for the kick ass cross-over icon love. YAY!  
**A/N: **I just find the thought of dignified Toushirou chittering very amusing. ;; But I'm not sure if this turned out very well. It's like I didn't write for a few days and I totally got thrown out of whack (or practice, I guess) in that short span of time. O.o

* * *

He was a genius in all shinigami arts of combat and ki manipulation. 

He'd passed every one of his written and physical examinations with highest marks, earning the unadulterated praise and awe of his peers and teachers in the process.

He graduated in a quarter of the normal instruction time required at the academy.

He became a captain-class shinigami, mastering his bankai technique in a mere handful of decades.

So Matsumoto argued that it definitely wasn't her fault for thinking that if he could handle all those things, he could handle a little thing called coffee as well.

In her book, it was hardly more severe a concept than manipulation of water molecules in the atmosphere, after all, and he'd complained about not being able to stay awake to get all of his necessary work done.

On his fifth night in a row awake after that first taste, when he was downing pot after pot of the dark liquid like it was nothing while chittering happily –if nonsensically— away to himself the entire time, the tenth division vice-captain decided that maybe she'd been wrong about his ability to cope.

Hitsugaya Toushirou might have been able to control the weather on a humid day as easily as his own breathing, but even so, it seemed that there were still some things a kid like him just wasn't ready for yet.

Matsumoto made a mental note that caffeine was one of them.

**END**


	325. Honor Code

**325. **

**Title:** Honor Code  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Renji, Iba, Shuuhei (with mentions of ShuuxYumi, IkkakuxKira)  
**Word Count:** 881  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.   
**Summary:** The thugs have a code of honor that just can't be broken. Right?  
**Dedication:** My brothers, who don't hit girls either. Even if I hit 'em first. XD  
**A/N: **School started today and I just needed some thug love.

* * *

"Argh, you _bitch!_" 

"Woah woah woah, the hell're you doin'?" Iba barked, hastily grabbing Ikkaku's fist before it could fly. "You can't hit her! That's against the code!"

"Ain't cool," Hisagi agreed from somewhere beside Iba, giving Madarame a hard look.

"I'm shamed of ya, Ikkaku, for even' thinkin' it," Renji chimed in, just to chime in.

Ikkaku looked at them all incredulously while his would-be victim smirked.

"The hell is _wrong _with you idiots!" the bald death god shouted, wrestling his wrist out of Iba's hold. "She…" he pointed to the bandit, "is trying to rob us." He glared at her. "She," he continued, "punched me first."

Shuuhei crossed his arms. "Well we already beat up her gang, didn't we? She can't very well rob us _now_." He turned to the woman. "Can ya, sweetheart?"

"Oh _no_," she assured him, smiling. "I've learned my lesson form you big strong men."

Renji thwacked Ikkaku on the shoulder with the back of his hand. "There, ya see? She's learned her lesson."

"She ain't learned nothin'!" Ikkaku shouted, his eye already beginning to swell shut. "I pulled her away from ya 'cuz she was liftin' your wallet while you were goin' on with that idiotic honor spiel! She _punched _me."

"Well ya deserved gettin' punched, way you were manhandlin' her. You some kinda pervert or somethin', Madarame? You know that sorta shady stuff is against the code."

The bald death god glowered at Tetsuzaemon. "She. Was. Trying. To. Take. Your. Wallet," he said very slowly, because sometimes Iba didn't understand things too well if he got spoken to too fast.

"Even so, that don't matter," Iba reiterated anyway. "Ya just can't hit a girl. Even one that was theivin'."

The other two idiots murmured in complete agreement.

Madarame smacked a hand to his forehead. "She's trying to take your wallet _right now_."

Iba blinked and looked down at the woman bandit, who had her hand down the front of his pants. He grinned. "Hey there, darlin'."

She smiled back. "Hey."

Ikkaku made a noise of disbelief in the back of his throat and grabbed her by the belt of her tunic, dragging her forcibly away from the seventh division vice-captain.

"Woah woah _woah_!" Shuuhei protested, stepping in and shoving Ikkaku away from her. "Watch those hands, Mister Grabby. You know that's against the code! Just ain't gentlemanly at all, Madarame. Might have to punch ya myself, for the lady's sake there."

Ikkaku screamed a little in his heart.

"Look," he hissed, poking Hisagi forcibly in the middle of his fool chest. "I am gonna beat her up, take back Renji _and_ Iba's wallets-- which are in her bra-- and then I'm gonna kill the rest of her dudes and go home. You idiots can turn yer damn eyes away or somethin' or plug yer ears and run away like the big sissies ya are, but I ain't gonna let this go unanswered just 'cuz she's got some nice tits and doesn't mind goin' inta Iba's pants for what she wants despite how powerful ugly he is."

The other three looked down at him, disappointed.

"Well that's just damn sad," Iba started, shakin' his head. "Gotta go'n pick on a girl. All crude like too, talkin' 'bout her unmentionables like they was your own. I'm tellin' ya, ever since he went to the other side…"

"Watch it," Shuuhei warned the other vice-captain. "I ain't like that."

Renji tsked. "Well, Kira musta done _somethin'_ to him, 'cuz the old Madarame I knew wouldn't hit a girl just ta hit her. Wouldn't just go against the code like it was easy or somethin'."

The bandit blinked upon hearing this new information. "So…" she started, gesturing towards Ikkaku, "he's…" she made a back and forth tilting motion with her hand.

The others nodded.

She grinned. "That explains a lot."

"Him too," Iba indicated, pointing at Hisagi. "Though he ain't completely lost his mind and don't go 'round threatenin' girls or anything." The seventh division shinigami grinned. "And just so ya know… _I_ still like the womenfolk, in case ya feel like…"

Ikkaku punched him.

And then he punched Renji.

And then he punched Shuuhei and hoped that Yumi wouldn't lay into him later for damaging his lover's pretty, wussy face.

While the other three were properly addled, he turned around and punched her.

He caught her before she could hit the ground—because he wasn't a _complete _cad-- and with a murmured apology to Kira if he was listening, the bald shinigami closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and reached into her bra. When he had Renji and Iba's wallets back he tossed them at their fool heads with as much force as he could.

Then he killed the rest of her men.

And then he went home.

The next day, when all four of them had black eyes, Iba, Renji, and Shuuhei were ready to kick Ikkaku's ass collectively, except Kira and Yumi had already heard the whole damn story and were laying into the three of them something fierce.

They would have done something about it, but Shuuhei was on a short leash and Iba and Renji didn't hit girls or guys that looked like them—a recent addendum—because it was against the code.

**END**


	326. Idealistic

**326. **

**Title:** Idealistic  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Iba, ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 998  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc  
**Summary:** Iba looks at Shuuhei before and after.  
**Dedication:** Everyone else who's writing this pairing too. LOVE!  
**A/N: **School makes me tired so I only write one a day now I suppose. If even that much. --;; And it even makes me too lazy to post right away. WTF? Anyway, I doubt this even makes any sense, given that I am addled right now. But I'm doing my best to write every day. That doesn't mean I have to do it _well _every day. Right?

* * *

For as long as he'd known him, there had always been two Shuuheis. 

There was respectable-Shuuhei, who talked polite and liked fancy speeches about honor and duty and being a better person. He was the one who trained to serve Tousen-taichou, the one who felt that if he stayed beside Kaname listening to pretty words about hope and good and justice all day, he would become all those things.

And then there was the Shuuhei Iba knew from before, the one who was an arrogant bitch about his abilities, the one who drank and cursed and looked at people as people and not as groups distinguished by those who needed saving and those who saved.

It was like two people living in the same person, and Iba wasn't sure if he resented it or sympathized, given that Komamura-taichou liked words about honor and justice too. Because while he respected his captain lots, Iba just didn't think he could be like Shuuhei and listen to a bunch of pretty words and think that that was all you needed for them to come true.

Maybe it was because he'd been in the eleventh division. He'd seen that there was an ugliness in justice too, a ruthless, cutthroat side that meant the strong over the weak no matter who was good or evil. Under Zaraki he'd seen that what they did as shinigami wasn't always the honorable thing, wasn't always the good thing or even the just thing. It was a job, and as much as Tousen liked to preach about ideals, the fact that Kenpachi was still around, still allowed to captain, told Iba that as nice as those words sounded, they were hardly close to the truth.

But Shuuhei had always been a better man than him about that stuff, he supposed. Hisagi liked to believe. He liked to believe that what he was doing wasn't just a job. He believed that good always triumphed over evil and that the strong would defend the weak, that justice would prevail no matter how bleak the odds.

So maybe that was why, when he listened to Tousen talk about that stuff, Shuuhei tried to make himself different from how he really was.

Iba had made fun of his friend the first time he'd heard that proper voice of Hisagi's. Wounded, the other man had asked, "What's wrong with wanting to better yourself? To become a greater person than you are?"

Iba supposed that made sense, but he didn't think listening to a bunch of pretty words helped towards that end either.

Maybe it was his time in the eleventh that made him jaded or some such thing, but he'd seen what it took for justice to prevail sometimes, and the fact that their hands were stained with blood at the end of everything just made him skeptical of things that sounded nice and neat.

Plus, to be honest, he preferred the Shuuhei that could cuss and drink and be an arrogant bitch so as to give Iba an excuse for violence.

He liked the guy who was his friend and not the fella that was always telling him to be respectable when all he wanted was cuss his head off and drink himself stupid after a tough day.

He liked the guy who patted him on the shoulder and knocked a couple cold ones back with him after a shitty time of dirtying their hands for those pretty ideals Tousen liked so much.

Then Tousen had betrayed them. Hisagi'd had a tough time of it. Sure, Hinamori and Kira had it tough too, but hearts mended.

Shuuhei's beliefs were shattered, and that was the sort of thing that never just healed over.

For a while, Iba hadn't had either Shuuhei there.

First, Iba had tried throwing those pretty words back at him, preaching faith in good, in honor, in justice, in spiritual strength.

Shuuhei had stared back at him blankly.

Then he'd tried to talk to good old thug Shuuhei. He'd grabbed some beers, sung some songs, and when Shuuhei failed to respond, tried to piss him off enough to fight by throwing beer at him and making fun of Tousen's sissy haircut.

Shuuhei had blinked back, beer on his face.

That had been tough, and for a while, Iba thought maybe it'd be best to leave his friend alone.

A few weeks later, he couldn't believe it when he heard Shuuhei shout.

"LEAVE ME _ALONE_, WILL YOU?"

Iba had run towards the sound in a hurry.

"Nope! Don't wanna!"

"ARGH!"

He'd made it in time to watch Shuuhei storm past, cursing a blue streak under his breath as he tried to outpace Ayasekawa, who happily kept up behind Hisagi, acting as if everything was dandy and Shuuhei wasn't brooding something fierce as he walked.

That pretty bastard had smiled and winked at Iba as they passed, talking about fine lines appearing prematurely on Shuuhei's face if he kept scowling.

Iba hadn't believed it.

But he was grateful now, he supposed.

Because there weren't two Shuuheis anymore.

Just one, who still liked honor and justice and such things, but who knew you had to get down and dirty to go after it too.

He was a Shuuhei that cursed again and drank beer again, laughing and joking and looking more like his old (real) self every day.

The only difference was that Ayasekawa was more often than not parked in Hisagi's lap now, smiling and laughing and joking right alongside him.

Iba couldn't say that he was really a fan of all that queer stuff and whatnot, but he supposed it was okay, so long as he had his friend and some beers and a good dirty joke to tell.

Hell, he was even learning to deal with the cuddling and the sex-eyes and all that shit.

Though to be honest, he was a little disturbed by the fact that he knew what gay sex-eyes looked like in the first place.

**END**


	327. Family Matters

**327. **

**Title:** Family Matters  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 994  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine, but some liberties taken with the eleventh division.  
**Summary:** The eleventh division is an unsuitable place for childrearing.  
**Dedication:** Jen, Jab, antiparallel, and swinku because we are a circle now? Sort of. Haha we still don't have a name? XD  
**A/N: **Because I needed something family oriented today. So...some schmoop. Eleventh Division style.

* * *

The first time they'd tried to take her away from him, she hadn't cried. 

And so Soul Society's Women's League thought that it would be easy to teach Yachiru how to be a real little girl, far away from the reaches of that monster, that unfit father.

She hadn't cried after all.

In fact, she'd waved as they'd carried her out, shouting, "I'll see you later, Ken-chan!"

He'd grunted after her, declaring that he was going inside to have a beer.

The ladies of the Women's League had sniffed at that, because it only further reinforced why someone like Zaraki Kenpachi wasn't suited to childrearing.

They'd placed her with a nice family nearby and she'd been delighted with all the toys and books present, playing with them happily for hours.

When her foster mother came in to fetch her for dinner however, she wasn't there.

Instead there was a note in crayon that read, "Thanks fer lettin' me play to-day! Neckst time I'll bring Ken-Chan 2, okay?"

Yachiru had promptly returned to the eleventh division headquarters, raving about her day and how she wished Ken-chan had been there to play with all the nice things with her.

Kenpachi had eyed her, beer in hand, and told her to wash up for dinner.

"Okay, Ken-chan!"

On the way she passed by other eleventh division members, who grinned at her and asked who'd she'd been killing all day.

Ikkaku snuck her some candy when she saw him, and Yumichika had taken one look at her and tsked, whisking her away for a bath before dinner.

They'd all eaten supper together in the hall, and it was good because it had been Yumichika and Ken-chan's turn to cook tonight and not Ikkaku's or anyone else's.

Yachiru sat in Kenpachi's lap and talked about all the toys they had to buy now because they'd been so much fun to play with.

Kenpachi grunted and told her to shut up and eat her damned broccoli.

'Okay, Ken-chan!"

He drank his beer and managed to eat without dropping into her hair.

After dinner she asked if they could play some more. Kenpachi glared at her and told her she already knew that tonight was reading night and not kill stuff night.

She'd pouted but acquiesced, and the two of them had gone to see Yumichika for their weekly reading lessons.

Yachiru picked stuff up quicker than Kenpachi, but he remembered more. They were a good team.

Later into the night, Yachiru's foster parents came knocking at the gate, all worked up because they'd been searching for her for hours.

"No need to worry folks," the shinigami on duty had assured them. "Fukutaichou's bein' put down now." And then, "The hell're you anyway?"

"We're her parents!"

He'd laughed at them. "Sure ya' are."

"Didn't anyone tell you? The Women's League came by today and confiscated her from you ruffians to be raised properly!" the husband explained heatedly.

The guard's eyes narrowed. "Confiscate fukutaichou? So _you're _the reason taichou's been in a mood all day?" He glowered. "Well. Ya can't have her."

"This is ridiculous! Wait until I tell the Women's League about this outrage! You low-lifes can't just do as you please whenever you see fit …"

"Is there a problem here?"

The man blinked as a pretty shinigami suddenly appeared beside the guard, smiling both welcomingly and warningly.

"Ayasekawa-san!" the guard started, saluting quickly. "These folks was just leavin', sir."

"Ah. I see. Well, please keep it down if possible. It's late."

"Yessir."

"Now you wait a minute here," the would-be father protested. "I'm not leaving until Yachiru is returned. It's my civic duty to give that child a real home!"

Yumichika sparkled at them dangerously. "As I said. It's after hours. So if you could please vacate the premises before I have to have you escorted out?"

"We'd be happy to leave once you return Yachiru."

Ayasekawa's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and the guard swallowed, taking a step backwards.

"You can't have her," Yumichika said very plainly. "Now goodnight."

He moved to seal the doors for the evening.

"But the Women's League has decided already! Surely you agree that a child can't grow up in a place like _this!_ She needs a real home! A family!"

Yumichika beamed. "She has one."

And closed the door behind him.

A little while later, after tucking Yachiru in and reading (for the fifty millionth time) that stupid story about the troll with the bridge and the damned Billy Goats, Kenpachi snuck out of her room, closing the door behind him.

Yumichika and Ikkaku greeted him in the hallway with their nightly reports, stating that all was well and that most of the men were out for the evening.

Zaraki grunted in acknowledgement. And then, as if remembering something, asked, "What was that damned racket I heard earlier? Trouble?"

Yumichika waved him off. "Solicitors only, taichou."

"Huh. 'Kay." He handed Ikkaku the worn story book. "Shelve that for me, will ya?"

"Yessir."

Sighing, the eleventh division captain turned to the bald shinigami. "She says I still don't do the middle goat's voice as good as you, whatever that means."

Ikkaku grinned. "It's 'cause ya don't 'baaah' enough, taichou. I already told ya."

"Che. Whatever. It's your turn ta read to her tomorrow night anyway."

Madarame grinned. "I'll show ya how it's done."

"Middle goat's a pansy anyways."

"Yer just sore 'cuz you've got the best natural troll voice, taichou."

"I'm going to make cocoa!" Yumichika announced suddenly, sounding disgustingly satisfied with something or another.

Both other shinigami turned and blinked at him. "What? Why?"

The fifth chair glowed. "Just because." And then, on their looks, "Oh, I'll put liquor into yours, you babies."

"Well, that's okay then."

"Yeah. Sounds good."

Yumichika bustled off humming, thinking to himself that family really was a wonderful thing.

Zaraki and Ikkaku watched him go and figured they were probably best off not trying to figure Yumichika out…ever.

**END**


	328. Kuchiki Princess

**328. **

**Title:** Kuchiki Princess  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchigoxRukia, the rest of the Kurosaki family  
**Word Count:** 641  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for 199.  
**Summary:** Rukia's birthday is an event at the Kurosaki house.  
**Dedication:** jenkat- the message this morning saved my life. I'm convinced of it.  
**A/N: **I had nooo idea that today was Rukia's birthday until I saw the posts and things. Bad me! So uh yeah. This is a bit hastily done, but hopefully passable either way. --;; Also, I ain't no botanist. So yeah.

* * *

It's her birthday and Isshin has gone nothing short of crazy. 

Well, crazier.

Ichigo stares at the ponies.

He doesn't have to ask _why_ there are ponies, he already knows. Isshin is predictable on a lot of accounts, and the fact that he's doing this to make up for _every birthday_ he missed of his "new daughter's" is not one of the more surprising things he's done in his lifetime.

Though Ichigo thinks the four-tier cake that is taller than her might be pushing it a little bit.

But she looks happy—he supposes that being treated like a princess does that to someone—and Yuzu looks like she' having a ball, and Karin is at least having fun telling Papa-the-Clown to make progressively more and more impossible balloon sculptures.

Ichigo supposes that the Hanging Gardens of Babylon in balloon form might just be worth the wait. And if not, it's entertaining just to watch Isshin sweat it out trying to make the damn thing though he most likely doesn't know what it looks like in the first place.

The clown outfit is a bit…horrific though.

Despite all that however, Ichigo finds himself for once, unable to focus completely on the chaos his family is causing.

He clutches his gift in his hand and wonders why he feels oddly inadequate in light of Babylonian gardens, ponies, and endless birthday cake.

He's not very good at presents really, and he isn't sure that-- given every grandiose thing Rukia has been gifted with today—a measly handful of flowers is an appropriate grand finale.

But then Rukia's looking at him expectantly, and he's got nothing else, so he plays it cool and steps forward, bringing them out from behind his back.

They're not the iPod that Isshin thought she absolutely needed, but if nothing else, Ichigo thinks they're pretty, and looking down at the ground, he holds them out to her and quietly says, "Happy birthday."

He waits for the snappy remark.

It doesn't come, but what does is the feel of two small hands cupped around his. Startled, he lets the bouquet go.

Rukia takes it up, holding it against her chest and smiling at him.

For a second, even Isshin is quiet.

"Thank you Ichigo," she says, holding the gift to her chest. "They're lovely."

He stares at her dumbly, because that just doesn't make sense.

But the look on her face is enough to convince him that maybe flowers in the middle of winter aren't so shabby after all.

They're not an iPod or whatever, but still.

"Er, you're welcome," he responds after a moment, trying not to sound awkward but making himself more so in the process.

They share a look, and Ichigo feels himself relaxing a little bit at the familiarity that it evokes. He smiles back. "I uh, know a spot," he explains. "Where they come up early."

"I see."

"I…thought you might like them, is all. So I uh… well, you know."

"I like them."

Ichigo's eyes soften and he hopes he's not blushing or anything stupid like that. "Well. Good."

Silence.

And then-

"Kyaaaa my son is so cool!"

"Ne, isn't he, tousan? Isn't he?"

Isshin straightens, sobering. "_I uh…know a spot…where they come up early_," he imitates in low tones, before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Ah Ichigo, I taught you well!"

Yuzu has stars in her eyes. "It's so romantic!"

Karin is still waiting for her gardens to be completed.

Ichigo slaps a hand to his forehead. "I'm going to my room."

Rukia laughs.

On the way upstairs, he watches out of the corner of his eye as her fingertips run lightly over the tops of the blue flowers.

Despite his embarrassment, he takes some comfort over the fact that she hasn't even taken the damn iPod out of the box yet.

**END**


	329. Hit with the Ugly Stick

**329. **

**Title:** Hit With the Ugly Stick  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, Iba  
**Word Count:** 171  
**Warning/s: **Weirdness, but no spoilers.  
**Summary:** Yumichika gives Iba some advice.  
**Dedication:** To the beautiful people! Yeah. Haha I just can't think of anyone who deserves the horror that is this drabble. O.o  
**A/N: **I'm just picking Iba because I'm being all ADD in my writing right now and going between three different stories at the same time. O.o Thus none of them will probably make any sense. Yeah.

* * *

"It's all about aesthetics!" Yumichika assured his companions. 

Shuuhei blinked. "It is?"

"Of course," his lover insisted. "I mean look at the two of us. We're absolutely gorgeous. And we balance perfectly."

Shuuhei blinked again. "Huh…"

"So, obviously, we had no choice but to work out _wonderfully _as a match."

Hisagi supposed he couldn't argue with that.

"Therefore, you can see that for something like this to work properly," Yumichika continued, "there has to be a _minimum_ balance of appealing visual aesthetics between both parties involved in the relationship. Which, I suppose, will make this all the more difficult for someone like _you._"

Shuuhei cringed. That wasn't subtle.

Iba on the other hand, simply stared. "Er… what're you gettin' at?"

Yumichika sighed. "What I'm _saying_ is… for _you,_ we will have to find _the absolute most gorgeous woman in the universe_ to get a _minimum _balance of appeal for your aesthetic as a couple."

Iba grinned anticipatorily. "Yeah? I like the sound of that."

Shuuhei slapped a hand to his forehead.

**END**


	330. First Time for Everything

**330. **

**Title:** First Time for Everything  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KiraxRenji (you heard me!)  
**Word Count:** 392  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for um, academy flashbacky stuff I guess. Though nothing really important.  
**Summary:** Kira celebrates a perfect score.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- because it is eating your brain and I encourage such things. XD  
**A/N: **Ahahaha I really can't explain this. At all. Really.

* * *

Honest, he hadn't known that Kira's never had alcohol before tonight. 

Because if he had, Renji knows that he would have taken better care of the blonde instead of going off and getting rather tipsy himself.

As it is, it's too late for that. Right now, he's not sure what do to with Kira's tongue down his throat like it is, because he doesn't think he's coordinated enough—or willing enough—to listen to what little good sense he has left and stop the blonde.

Thanks to the booze, his own inhibitions are moot at this point too.

Vaguely, he thinks to himself that maybe he shouldn't have had shot number eleven with that beer chaser earlier.

But then Kira's pushing him down on his back and whatever vague facsimile of coherent thought he just had is out the window, along with the top to his academy uniform.

Kira grins blearily and removes his own to the same fate.

Renji stares at perfect white skin on lean, hard muscle, and swallowing, finds himself reaching out to touch.

Kira giggles. "Mmm, tickles," he murmurs, right before his hands find their way into Renji's pants.

"Nnngh," is the redhead's only response, and before long, his head is spinning with more than just the alcohol.

"My reward," Kira slurs happily, "for having the best term grades outta the whole class!"

Renji's pants are soon after tossed out the window as well, and he watches, transfixed, as Izuru starts fumbling with his own.

"You're drunk," he manages, even though his hands are-- of their own volition, mind-- helping the other boy out of his clothing.

"Yup! And now I'm drunk _and_ naked!" Kira proclaims happily, like it's the bonus question to his perfect score from earlier.

"Nnngh," Renji replies, eloquent as he pulls Kira down flush on top of him. "'m drunk too."

"Good. Alcohol will dull the pain, I think," Kira assures him, before smiling and planting a sloppy, though considerably enthusiastic kiss on the redhead's lips.

Renji blinks. "Mmmph? The hell's that supposed ta… HOLY _SHIT_!"

The next morning, Renji has to limp back to his own dormitory in nothing but his underwear, ignoring the jeers and whistles of the other students as best he can because Kira—the bastard— decided to throw up out of the window this morning when he woke up.

**END**


	331. Sword Envy

**331. **

**Title:** Sword Envy  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Yumichika, Hozukimaru  
**Word Count:** 140  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Ch 206 (I think it was?)  
**Summary:** Ikkaku attempts to tame Hozukimaru. Yumichika relaxes.  
**Dedication:** Um. How about Christine, since I've unintentionally (sort of) been really mean today? XD  
**A/N: **I just tried to imagine how Yumi would do it, given what Ichigo and Renji had to go through. And I figured to hell with it, because Yumi does things in his own (beautiful) way anyway.

* * *

Broken and bleeding, Ikkaku tries to find breath as he staggers to his feet, glaring at Hozukimaru.

"Is that all ya got, weak sauce?"

"Shaddup," the bald shinigami snarls, lunging forward again.

In the back of his mind, he can't help but resent Yumichika a little, for reaching bankai in a matter of a day or so.

It had pretty much been, "I'm a beautiful man and you are a beautiful sword and so anything we do together couldn't be less than spectacularly beautiful, don't you think?"

The damned pretty sword had agreed and now they're sitting by chatting and having tea while…

"Ow, goddammit!" Ikkaku hisses, punching the irate dragon in the head to dislodge its jaws from his side. "Fucker!"

"Pay attention, asshole, or I'm just gonna eat you and ta hell with it all!"

"I said shaddup!"

**END**


	332. As Strong As Hate

**332. **

**Title:** As Strong as Hate  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Shuuhei, Yumichika (lightly ShuuxYumi), Iba  
**Word Count:** 770  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc and vague spoilers for Ch 206.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei has a whole list of things he hates about Yumichika.  
**Dedication:** The readers (I never thought I'd hit 1000+ for ANYTHING), and the people on lj who have friended the fic journal (didn't think I'd get 100+ there either. O.o) I'm real grateful that you're willing to put up with my silliness and randomness. And your comments always make me happy.  
**A/N: **I've been craving the Shuumi something fierce lately, and thus I'm writing it in the hopes that it will fuel something maybe. One day. --;; Plus I felt a little sappy after all that Love Mode and Wolf's Rain romance, so it's kind of spilling over, I suppose. O.o

* * *

He hates that Ayasekawa can do this to him, that the other man can simply smile and call him a ridiculous pet name and have Shuuhei fuming mad and unable to think straight for hours afterwards.

He also hates that Yumichika is so casual about the differences in their powers, how the other man laughs and says, "Na, wouldn't it be nice, Shuu-chan, if I became your captain? Then we could see each other every day!" without knowing how much he is challenging Shuuhei with those words.

And he hates that Ayasekawa is everything that Tousen taught him not to be and at the same time, is the one left standing with a whole division, with all his strength and pride and beliefs intact, while Shuuhei's division—the one built on trust and honor and the greater good—is in shambles, his strength easily bested and his pride and beliefs sorely trampled upon.

What he hates most is that Yumichika has made him look at the eleventh division himself for once, instead of through the eyes of a blind man.

And he can't stand that what he sees is a caring father in the captain's coat of the eleventh, a leader who does not preach honor or faith but who somehow seems to have stumbled upon them in his own way anyway, using his own codes and his own strength. And Shuuhei watches that leader lead without telling any of his subordinates about that honor or those codes even once. He is amazed to discover that those standards reach Kenpachi's men anyway. Without a word.

He sees as well, a vice-captain who is not simply devoted to her captain, but who genuinely loves him, who sees him not as a symbol of something greater to aspire to, but as a man who carries her on his shoulder and reads her wonderful stories at night.

He sees a third-chair who refuses to leave his captain in search of greater status, because he knows his own strength well enough that he doesn't need a fancy new coat to tell him how strong he is.

And he sees a fifth chair who looks as if he doesn't belong but perhaps who belongs most of all, because in that honest division full of simple-minded idiots, Yumichika is the most honest and straightforward of them all.

"_I like you. You're good-looking and gentle, if misguided. And I like listening to you because your voice sounds nice._"

He hates that Ayasekawa can just say those sorts of things to him and then show up the next day asking to spar again; acting like it doesn't change a thing.

It all grates on Hisagi something fierce, and he ends up taking it out on other people unintentionally afterwards, even when he knows that in doing so, he's being dishonorable to the point of pettiness.

"Sorry I punched you," he mutters to Iba, his best friend nursing an angry black eye in the chair next to him.

"Yeah, well, no harm," Iba replies. "Sorry I split your lip."

"My fault anyway."

"Truth is, 'm kinda relieved to see you actin' like an idiot again," Iba confesses with a grin.

Shuuhei blinks. "What? Why?"

"Just 'cuz. I dunno. Ya seemed so… gone for a while there, I guess. Like ya weren't all there."

Hisagi frowns. "Did I?"

"Yeah, I guess. It was just weird. Thought you'd stay despondent like the other two or something, I suppose. You know, just go through the motions. Prefer ya pissed and irritable, to be honest. Man though. Surprised me with that left."

Shuuhei, guilt ridden, apologizes again.

"Stoppit already, will ya? I told ya, ain't nothin'. Just glad to have you back, is all."

The bigger vice-captain pauses.

"Though I gotta ask…what've you been doin' different from Hinamori'n Kira these past few weeks?"

Shuuhei looks away. "Nothing."

Iba grins. "That don't _mean_ nothin'. Say… you find a girl or somethin'?"

"No!"

"A guy, then?"

Shuuhei's eyes widen. "_What_?"

Iba shrugs. "Could happen."

They sit in silence for a while longer, holding their ice packs up to their wounds.

After a moment, Shuuhei clears his throat. "Um…Iba… why'd you figure I had a girl all of a sudden?"

The seventh division shinigami chuckles. "Dunno. Lately, seems yer either pissed the hell off or walkin' around, daydreamin' 'bout somethin'. Figured it could only be somethin' like that."

At the words, Shuuhei freezes, feeling his heart stop.

His eyes slowly widen.

…well shit.

Slamming his head onto the table, Hisagi grits his teeth and adds another reason to his list of things to hate Ayasekawa for.

**END**


	333. Way of the World

**333. **

**Title:** Way of the World  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** GinxKira (ish)  
**Word Count:** 811  
**Warning/s: **Indirect spoilers for the SS arc? Maybe. I dunno.  
**Summary:** It is Gin's responsibility to prepare those under his command to face the world. As best he can.  
**Dedication:** antiparallel- because I harass you and make you draw for me all the time. XD  
**A/N: **This I think, is a lot of words that, at the end, end up saying nothing at all. Oh well. --;;

* * *

He likes the blonde's swagger, the easy leadership and sense of self-superiority the young man has, the way he can smile and have all the other shinigami in the third division fall all over themselves trying to monopolize his attention.

Gin genuinely likes this new kid, this Kira Izuru who thinks he's young and invincible and can take on the world with just that pretty face and some theoretical academy knowledge.

For the most part, the boy is right, but Gin thinks that he is going to enjoy very much, the honor of being able to teach young Kira Izuru all the things he's wrong about as well.

Gin has seen the world for what it is and knows some things that perhaps, a young, up-and-coming shinigami like Kira may not know, after all. And as the superior officer, he feels that it is his job to convey his knowledge to his underlings as best he can.

Especially those who think they can rule the world right out of academy, who feel as though they are truly prepared for what lies ahead when in reality, they know very little at all.

Gin knows some tricks that they don't, he thinks, and for the sake of this pretty Kira Izuru, Ichimaru finds himself paying special attention to the young man, a sense of anticipation thrumming through his veins as he imagines just what sorts of real-world lessons he will impart on his charge.

This sweetly naïve Kira thinks that he is at his most beautiful with that big, confident smile, those bright, enthusiastic eyes.

Gin knows otherwise though, knows just by looking that that pretty face will be at its highest beauty when he shames it just right, the moment he takes it in his hands and makes that confident smile tremble, makes those bright, enthusiastic eyes flutter shut.

Kira thinks that if he holds his head up high, if he displays his overwhelming charisma and pride to those around him, he will win them over completely, effortlessly.

And Gin knows otherwise, knows that someone like Kira Izuru will be at his most captivating looking at the ground, will win the hearts of others with a breathtakingly magnificent quiet, a trembling, delicious humility full of timid charm. Gin knows how to make it possible for Kira to hide his face from behind the curtain of his hair and whisper words that will make the world fall in love with him without ever once seeing his whole face.

Kira thinks his knowledge of spells and curses and battle will see him through the war against the Hollows.

Gin knows that it is really his captain who will see him through, or who won't, depending. Ichimaru believes that it will be very important for Kira to realize this, to know that his life and death both lie in the hands of his tender-hearted leader. If he wishes to be saved, he'd best be a well-behaved little boy and know his place. Know that Gin is the only one who will be there to save him.

He doesn't know these things yet, this young Kira Izuru, but Ichimaru is watching him, and the third division captain thinks that soon enough, soon enough sweet little Kira-chan will open his eyes and see the world for what it is.

After all, Gin knows so much more of how it works than this naïve boy, this fresh-out-of-academy child with rosy cheeks and straight, square shoulders.

The third division captain loves that the academy can still give him boys like this Kira Izuru, that within those hallowed halls, they can continue to churn out living, breathing dolls that know nothing of the world. Because for Ichimaru, it means that much more anticipatory joy, that much more special effort in showing them the truth of things.

Gin watches this new recruit and likes him immediately, thinking that very soon, Kira Izuru will make his way up through the ranks of the third division.

The captain eagerly anticipates that day. Because before he can most effectively do his duty as a leader and properly educate this young man, Kira must go through all the trouble and hard work that moving up the ranks requires, and as he does it, he must believe that everything he's learned up until now is actually, irrefutably true.

Because it can only be after that moment, after that struggle, that Gin will best be able to take Kira Izuru's young life in the palm of his hands and crush it, break it down into dust and build it back up to be exactly what he wants.

That is the only way to make this work.

And while it will be a long wait, while it will be perhaps, a cruel thing to do to pretty young Izuru, Gin looks forward to it anyway.

It's his duty.

**END**


	334. the Code

**334. **

**Title:** The Code   
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **The Thugs and Hitsugaya  
**Word Count:** 808  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Sequel to #292 (Initiation) and companion piece to #325 (Honor Code)- Hitsugaya learns thug.   
**Dedication:** idiosyn for humoring my shamelessness. Thug love, baby.  
**A/N: **I had so much fun writing "Honor Code" that I wanted to expound. But like most sequels, this doesn't live up to the name of the first story, I don't think. Ah well. I tried. --;;

* * *

"First off, ya don't steal," Iba pointed, poking him in the chest.

Hitsugaya thought that that went without saying, and really, where the hell did these bastards get off giving him orders in the first place? He was a captain after all and they…well. They weren't all captains themselves.

"No stealin'," Ikkaku reiterated. "Completely against the code. Ya want somethin', you beat the bastard who has it up and you take it. But do it to his face."

A chorus of agreement from the other members.

"And no hittin' girls," Shuuhei added, giving Ikkaku a hard look. "Though I guess, if they're ya know, doing something against the code themselves then you can. But not too hard. And don't hit her in the face. Or naughty bits. That ain't nice."

"Yeah. If you gotta hit a girl, you know, do it gentleman-like," Renji agreed. "No closed fists or anythin'."

"Also, ain't proper to go stabbin' anyone in the back."

Ikkaku grunted in agreement. "But uh… the periphery don't count, and sucker punchin' is okay when the bastard is real annoyin' or he's about ta sneak up on a buddy."

"And ya gotta be a good wingman," Iba added. "That's um, rule number… uh…" he turned to the others for help.

"Three?"

"Four, ya idiot," Hisagi corrected, rolling his eyes at Renji.

"Aw shaddup."

"Yeah. Rule number four. Wingman's gotta stay and chat up the girl's ugly friends. And ain't allowed to get so drunk as to have to be taken care of himself."

Hitsugaya blinked. But weren't most of these guys…

"Rule number five," Ikkaku added hastily. "Those that're spoken for don't gotta be wingman. 'Cuz cheatin' or pretendin' to ain't right."

"Right," Shuuhei agreed. "Ain't right."

"Rule six," Iba continued, "you've only got two wingman vetoes a year. Save 'em for the real bad ones."

Toushirou wondered if the excuse where he oh, _wasn't allowed in bars_ spared him from having to wingman at all.

"Rule seven," Renji barged in, looking imperious. "We take turns goin' ta each other's places for game night. Host provides drinks, snacks, smokes, and the game pieces. No pansy shit like Parcheesi. Mahjong, poker, scrabble, and sometimes Taboo, but only when there's a lotta alcohol."

"Rule eight," Hisagi began. "If one of us starts a fight, nobody helps out less the instigator tags us in. Er, only exceptions bein' some bastard sneakin' up from the back, as mentioned in rule four."

Ikkaku cleared his throat. "Rule nine is none of us talks 'bout what was said while we was drunk, especially to outside parties who weren't you know, drunk with us at the time such things was said. Last time that code got broken I got cut off fer a month on account of Renji blabbin' to Kira 'bout that droolin' in his sleep problem."

"I didn't mean ta blab!" Renji protested hotly. "Was drunk when I did that too!"

"Yeah, shaddup. I'm still sore at ya for that, bastard."

"Rule ten," Iba continued. "When we fight amongst ourselves clean hits only. Nothin' below the belt. Once one sore fella has a fight with the fella he's sore with, the subject gets dropped and ya can't bring it up again." The vice-captain glared at the new third division captain. "Remember rule ten, Madarame?"

The bald death god sulked. "Yeah, yeah."

"Rule number eleven…"

With vague horror, Hitsugaya began to realize (around rule number thirty-seven) that the code was probably an ongoing narrative of all the things these four idiots had done wrong throughout their entire damned lives.

He was going to be here for _days_.

He supposed that it was partially his own fault for getting huffy at Matsumoto earlier and declaring that he was going to go befriend the most guy-type guys he could find in seireitei. He would go back and apologize for his stupidity right now if he could, but there was still the matter of him being slightly hung-over and…

…in a dress.

If it had been possible, he would have given up on this whole initiation process and gone back to the tenth division headquarters in supplication to Matsumoto so long as his gloating vice-captain gave him some aspirin and let him take a long nap, but as it was, the other men had hidden his pants when they'd changed him and he didn't fancy walking across seireitei in the sundress.

And while he was seriously contemplating threatening them with violence should they continue to withhold his clothing from him, the rational part of him (the one that was steadily sinking into utter hopelessness) already knew that the four of them wouldn't mind fighting to the death for the sake of keeping his pants hidden, wherever they were.

Rule number twenty eight was, "Respect the code," after all.

Hitsugaya fervently vowed to never drink alcohol ever again.

**END**


	335. Simplicity's End

**335. **

**Title:** Simplicity's End  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Byakuya, Yoruichi, Urahara, Kaien, Kuukaku, Rukia (mentions of ByakuyaxHisana)  
**Word Count:** 988  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for parts of the SS arc, rampant backstory speculation that's probably wrong, and SAP.  
**Summary:** Sequel to #301 ("A Simple Game of Cards")- A look at Byakuya in moments of loss.   
**Dedication:** fanartist- love for the beautiful Byakuya-bo art, here's hoping for many more!  
**A/N: **Sadder and sappier than I'd wanted, but this idea hit me and I didn't know what to do with it but follow through. I probably should have done something fluffy as thanks for the wonderful art fanartist drew, but my muse is a fickle, cruel beast. --;;

* * *

His mother had died first.

He remembers the funeral and how his father hadn't cried, how he'd put a hand on Byakuya's shoulder and told him not to cry either, because everyone was watching and they had to know that the Kuchiki men were strong.

So he hadn't cried at is mother's funeral, but when Yoruichi found him in the garden sometime later, she'd taken one look at him before grabbing him and shoving his head into her chest, growling, "Oh stop it, would you?"

He'd cried then, just a little bit, and when she'd let him go she said, "Now ya gotta be a Kuchiki man again and get to the damn wake, will ya?"

He'd followed her, drying his cheeks with the backs of his hands.

He'd used his poker face after that, and he remembers how everyone had marveled at how strong, how disciplined he was, for such a young boy. Truly a man the Kuchiki clan could be proud of.

His father had died second, and he remembers how he'd been sitting in class (while Ichimaru casually attempted to copy his notes from the next chair over) when Urahara burst into the room, the blonde captain for once not looking jovial at all.

"He needs to come with me," he'd instructed, before the professor could properly sputter at the interruption. Then, turning back to his younger friend, the new twelfth division captain had murmured, "There's been an attack."

His first year in the academy was also his first year as the head of the Kuchiki family.

He hadn't cried at his father's funeral out of habit. Urahara had offered him a smoke and a drink afterwards, and they hadn't said anything to one another as they sat in the garden in silence.

Urahara and Yoruichi had left next.

He remembers how, the night before, they'd laughed and congratulated him in privacy for his acceptance into the Gotei-13. He never allowed them to joke so casually with him in public, because he was the Kuchiki family head now, and he didn't want to shame his parents' legacy even if his friends called him a stuffed shirt for it.

So they'd waited until he'd been out in the garden getting a breath of fresh air from all the overblown egos in the reception hall, to ruffle his hair and properly praise him for his hard work.

The morning after his induction ceremony they'd been gone, without a word, without a note. Seireitei had been in an uproar.

He remembers feeling a little bit lonely.

Kaien had come to see him about it then, the vice-captain sitting with him and saying he was sure, he was sure that there was a good explanation. He was sure they'd hear soon. Byakuya took comfort from that, and when the investigations started, he used his poker face to answer the officials' questions until he wasn't sure he'd be able to use any other face at all.

He'd been lonely for a while, but he never showed it.

Before long, he met a girl.

She'd been pretty and sad and he thought, sort-of similar to him in that there was a face she showed the world and a face that was feeling something else altogether underneath.

For the first time, he found himself torn between his edicts as leader of a noble house and as a simple man.

Kaien and Kuukaku had smacked him upside the head when he came to them about his troubles, and with their help, he married a commoner and used that poker face of his to stare down anyone who dared question him about it.

He'd been a little less lonely after that because he'd been in love, but despite his efforts, that part of Hisana that had drawn him to her, that hidden part, stayed that way.

He remembers only ever having had a glimpse of what lay beneath, and only after five years of trying his hardest to find a path to her heart. The day she opened up to him about what grieved her, she faded away.

He hadn't cried at her funeral either, because Kuchiki men were strong.

Kaien visited him again, and they'd sat together, staring at her shrine for a few hours.

He kept his promise to Hisana sometime later, when he saw her face again, but in a different girl, a harder, younger, more frightened girl.

He remembers her face when he'd taken her into his home, looking in trepidation at his stone-cold expression when he called her sister.

He'd wanted to maybe embrace her then, to soothe her fears, but Hisana had never liked that much either, and he hadn't wanted to make a scene in front of the other Kuchiki elders.

Even with Rukia at his side, he remembers how he'd still felt something like loneliness growing in his heart.

Kaien died before either of them had been able to hear back from their friends, and it was Byakuya's turn to visit the grieved.

But when he arrived, the Shiba house was in an uproar because its heirs were missing, and he never had a chance to explain to Kuukaku, what it was that had happened that night, between his friend and his adopted sister.

He didn't cry at Kaien's funeral, but he remembers waiting in the garden for the entire night, thinking that Yoruichi or Urahara would show up this time, for sure.

He left at dawn because the Kuchiki family head could not be seen sitting out in the garden like a squatter.

The next day he resumed his duties as the sixth division captain and thought that while it had been nice, tag and cards and secret garden meetings were games for children and not the heads of noble houses.

Face stony, he remembers the exact moment when he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and decided it was time to grow up.

**END**


	336. Reversals

**336. **

**Title:** Reversals  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira, mentions of ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 995  
**Warning/s: **Awkwardness and some weirdness, but no direct spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Continuous of everything IkkakuxKira I've done, I suppose- Ikkaku has a question.   
**Dedication:** swinku- HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  
**A/N: **Ahaha see, I didn't have a lot of time to plan this (and I still have homework, argh), but I hope you like this anyway, my loverly fourth chair. If not, I'll make it up to you, I swear. --;;

* * *

"Oi Hisagi…can I ask ya a question?"

Shuuhei arched a brow at that, thinking that it must be serious if Ikkaku hadn't started the conversation with, "Oi, asshole, answer me this…" like usual.

"Yes?" the vice-captain responded, extremely wary.

Ikkaku looked embarrassed. "Er… was wonderin'… you uh… you know the uh… dammit." He scowled as he trailed off, and gritting his teeth, counted to ten before trying again. "I was wonderin'…'bout when you'n Yumi um… the time you uh… well, the thing…"

Shuuhei blinked. "The what?"

"The uh…first time you'n Yumichika uh…" apparently unable to voice whatever it was he was thinking, the bald captain surrendered the verbal approach and held up two fingers.

"Won?" Shuuhei asked, brow furrowing.

Ikkaku scowled. "No! That's not the V-sign, ya dumbass." Pause. "Er, what I mean is… I wanna know 'bout when you two uh…" he flipped his hand so the back of it faced his friend. "You know."

Shuuhei stared. "Eh?"

"_You know_," the bald captain muttered, flipping his fingers rapidly back and forth.

"Flipped?"

"Argh. No."

"Rotated?"

"No! It's… well, you know!" Madarame insisted, punctuating with more flips of his hand.

"Switched?"

"…uh. Yeah. That."

"I don't follow where you're…" Pause. "_Oh_."

Ikkaku, plainly mortified, looked away upon Shuuhei's comprehension. "Yeah. That."

Now that he'd found his ground, Shuuhei relaxed a little. "I see. So you're at that point now, huh?" The dark-haired shinigami couldn't help but grin a little.

On that vaguely pervy look, Madarame glared. "Dammit, no funny stuff or anything. I just asked a damn question."

"You didn't actually ask a question yet," Shuuhei reminded him.

Ikkaku snorted. "Smartass. Look. I just wanna know, er, if you don't mind tellin' me of course, uh…how it was?"

Shuuhei shrugged. "Was good."

"Asshole. You're just makin' this difficult for me on purpose, ain'tcha?"

Shuuhei smirked a little wickedly. "Maybe."

"Look… all I wanna know is… was…did it really…did it change anything?"

Hisagi had the grace to answer seriously this time, because Ikkaku looked so genuinely lost. "Yeah," he allowed. "It really did."

Seeing the look in his friend's eye as he said that, Ikkaku sighed. Took a deep breath. "Well. Okay then."

That done, Ikkaku returned home and set some stuff up in the bedroom, showered, and pep-talked himself in the mirror for a good ten minutes so that he wouldn't look so damn nervous when Kira got back. He didn't want to scare his lover the moment the poor guy got in the door, after all.

When he came out of the bathroom the blonde was coming in the door, looking like he was in good spirits because he'd gotten to guest-lecture at the academy today, and the vice-captain always liked doing nerdy stuff like that.

The kids liked him, and he was a good leader.

Competent, and patient, and just nice about stuff.

Thinking about that eased some of Ikkaku's nervousness.

"Hey, uh… welcome back," he greeted, licking his lips anxiously.

Izuru beamed. "Tadaima."

Ikkaku really couldn't feel anything but warmth for that smile, and relaxing a little more under it, he impulsively stepped forward and cupped Izuru's face, kissing his lover gently in real greeting.

Kira smiled into the welcome display of affection, tilting his head back and opening his mouth obligingly. For a moment Ikkaku forgot about pretty much everything else in the world.

"Wow. Hello," Kira breathed when they'd pulled back, resting his forehead against the other man's cheek. "I was only gone for a few hours," he teased, though those eyes looked up adoringly at Ikkaku.

"Just buildin' up my nerve, I guess," Madarame answered, burying his nose into Kira's hair and breathing deep.

"Oh? For what?"

"Er…"

At that, Kira pulled back a little, looking worried. "Is something the matter?"

Ikkaku's face was red. "Well… no, nothin's the matter. Been meanin' to ask you somethin', is all."

Kira reached out and patted the arm of the hand resting around his waist in a reassuring manner. "What?"

"Er…" Ikkaku pulled the blonde against him again because it was tough to look at him and say what he needed to say. Maybe he'd be less of a wimp about it in the future, but for now he allowed himself some first-time jitters and the comforting closeness of Izuru in his arms. "Well…I was wonderin'," he began, swallowing, "if uh…if uh, maybe you wanted to uh… switch tonight?"

Kira blinked. "Eh? Switch what?"

Ikkaku sighed. Took another deep breath. "Well…" he leaned so that he could whisper into the other man's ear. "Was wonderin'…"

Kira pulled back upon hearing those words, his face just as red as Ikkaku's. "_That_ kind of switch?"

"Uh…yeah. I thought maybe we oughta give it a shot."

"We don't… we don't have to…"

Something about seeing Kira being just as nervous as him made it a little bit easier. "Yeah we do," he assured Izuru, smiling gently. "…I wanna."

Kira swallowed. "You do?"

Ikkaku looked away. "Yeah."

"But I…"

"I trust you."

"I know, but…"

Ikkaku laughed a little then, because the poor guy was more worked up about the whole thing than he was and he found it just a little bit ironic that all he wanted to do now was comfort Izuru, build up the blonde's confidence so that he believed in himself just as much as Ikkaku did. He leaned forward and planted a kiss behind Kira's ear, where he knew the other death god was sensitive. "You'll be great, baby."

Kira shivered then, but not in a bad way. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah."

"…O-okay then."

The next day at lunch, Shuuhei took one look at the bald death god and knew everything right away. Smirking, he asked, "well?" anyway.

Ikkaku sat down gingerly across from him and grinned. "Well damn."

Hisagi laughed. "Yeah."

They ate their bentos and didn't speak about it again.

From beside Shuuhei, Iba blinked at the two of them. "The hell're you two assholes talkin' about?"

**END**


	337. 11th Division: Yachiru

**337. **

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 6: Yachiru  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 240  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, I don't think. --;;  
**Summary:** Sequel to #320 (Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 5: Ikkaku)- Even vice-captains need their naps.  
**Dedication:** Alex- UR THUGZ R AWESOME ZOMG!1one  
**A/N: **I was too lazy to actually do Yachiru talk today, but I imagine that there are some pretty damn horrific crayon drawings involved in her interview. XD

* * *

Kenpachi paused in front of his office door, hearing Yachiru's distinct laughter and several crashes, screams, and perhaps an explosion or two from inside. 

Hand still on the door; he turned to the man who had requested he return here, asking, "The hell's goin' on in there?"

The assistant looked nervous and said, "The interviews're goin' on like they said they would, taichou. Fukutaichou's turn today, 'pparently. But er, I figured maybe ya oughta see to this personally given that we've uh, we've been hearin' the lady that went in with fukutaichou screamin' some damn awful things. Not ladylike at all, given how snooty she was with us at the door."

The eleventh division captain grunted. "Huh."

"Well, I just figured, fukutaichou ought not ta be exposed to that sorta vulgarity and what not. Weren't very um… classy, I s'pose."

Kenpachi leaned his ear against door for a moment. Then, "Mmm…ain't nothin' she ain't already heard, I don't think."

"Ah. Yessir. Well'n… mayhaps you should uh…go in there and help the older Miss?"

Kenpachi turned towards the hallway window, squinting to try and measure the sunlight coming through. "Mmm. Ain't it past Yachiru's naptime?" he asked, weary.

"Um. Yessir. 'S why none of us wanted to uh, chance goin' in there without ya, sir, to be honest."

"Huh." Zaraki let his hand drop from the door. Turned around. "I'm gonna get a beer. Get me when it's quiet again."

"Ah…yessir."

**END**


	338. Different Tastes

**338. **

**Title:** Different Tastes  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Isshin Ryuuken  
**Word Count:** 191  
**Warning/s: **Er, OOCness and weirdness, and the whole big Ryuuken spoiler if you're not there yet.  
**Summary:** Isshin tries to look cool. Ryuuken is no Masaki.  
**Dedication:** kshi- welcome, 6th chair! And laliho- I miss you!   
**A/N: **Something tickles me about Ryuuken being OCD about his personal hygiene. Call me crazy. --;;

* * *

Ryuuken hates the scent of cigarettes. He's a doctor and knows better, after all. 

So he finds it ridiculous that Isshin's excuse for smoking beside him after the first time they're together is so that the idiot can look "cool" or some such nonsense.

Ryuuken orders the fool to put that filthy thing out and go to sleep. They both have work in the morning.

After he says that, Isshin looks at him for a moment in an unnervingly solemn way, and Ryuuken finds himself becoming just a little bit worried that Kurosaki is going to try and say something serious and force the Quincy to kick the idiot out of his own bed.

"What?" he asks after he can't stand it anymore.

Then Isshin beams and places a sloppy, though considerably enthusiastic kiss on the other doctor's lips before turning up towards the ceiling and flashing a thumbs up. "Na, good choice, Masaki! Thank you!"

Ryuuken stares at him.

Stares at the ceiling.

And then realizes that he's just been kissed with nicotine-breath.

Making a face, the Quincy gets up out of bed and goes to brush his teeth.

Again.

**END**


	339. Without a Trace

**339. **

**Title:** Without a Trace  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Aizen, Gin, Tousen  
**Word Count:** 264  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc and parts of the Arrankar arc, I suppose.  
**Summary:** Where have Tousen and Gin gone?  
**Dedication:** para and kshi for the art. The ART.  
**A/N: **Honestly, where have those two gone!

* * *

"Have you seen Gin lately?" Aizen questions, stopping one of the younger Arrankar in his tracks as he passes the creature in a narrow hallway. 

"No, sir," the boy replies. "Not lately."

Aizen's brow furrows at that. "How about Tousen, then?"

The Arrankar shakes his head again. "No, sir. I haven't seen him around lately either."

"Odd," Aizen murmurs, looking vaguely troubled. "I wonder what they could possibly be doing."

He spends some time searching the compound for his two subordinates, and is eventually led by the process of elimination, towards a back, back room.

He comes upon that last closed door and finds a "Do Not Disturb" sign tacked onto it. However, seeing as to how it's his last resort, he ignores the request (rather impolitely, he admits) and slowly opens the door, peering inside.

Two heads become visible to him as he steps in, and there he finds his long missing men, the two of which are seated cozily around a glowing television set.

Tousen looks vaguely bored while Gin enthusiastically narrates what's happening on the screen to the other captain, a videogame controller nestled snugly in his lap.

"Na, Kana-chan, doesn't Cloud-kun look like my Kira-chan?"

Tousen sighs.

"Ahahaha, sorry, I forgot. Well, _I_ think he looks like Kira-chan, so I suppose you'll have to take my word for it, ne?"

Aizen blinks and retreats before he gets sucked into the happenings himself, shaking his head as he closes the door behind him.

So that's what they've been up to all this time.

Well, no wonder he hasn't seen them around.

**END **


	340. Paternal Instinct

**340. **

**Title:** Paternal Instinct  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** Kenpachi, Yachiru  
**Word Count:** 997  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Kenpachi's backstory, I suppose, but everyone knows it now.   
**Summary:** Kenpachi and Yachiru and how annoying and stupid she is. Yeah.  
**Dedication:** imparfait- thanks so much for the paid account time! Love!  
**A/N: **I know, strange turn of narrative form, but I decided this would be fun to use. --;;

* * *

There's something about her—you don't know what— that, when you look at her pink, helpless, stupid face, makes you want to give her everything that you never got in life. And so you pick her up and take her with you. You give her all the knowledge you wish you'd had and all the things you can spare that you do have— you don't know why. 

You give her a name right away, because you understand what it's like to not have one. It's the most precious one you've ever known, and you let her have it without a second thought because it's the only one you remember, the only one that matters.

You show her everything you know that's important, how to fight, how to hunt, how to move. You hope that with that knowledge, she'll have a chance of taking care of her idiotic, helpless self so you won't have to all the time.

Plus, you don't think she'd look as good as you with the same scars you've got. So you show her how to avoid getting them without having to experience them first, like you did.

You learn things for her sake too. You figure out how to change a diaper, learn to brush hair and teeth that aren't your own. You figure out how to wash a face without scrubbing too hard and how to make food that isn't just cooked but tastes okay, sort-of.

She gets older eventually, and you have to teach her other things too. What things are— a man, a woman, a pain-in-the-ass, money, dogs, cats, dirty rotten perverts— and how to use them— for money, for sympathy, for kicks, for other stuff, for food, for food, for training.

She masters all that before long, and then you discover there are other things she needs to know that you can't teach her. But because you can, and because you want her—you don't know why—to be better off than you, you find people who can give her the things she needs that you can't teach.

"I ain't impaired!" she insists.

Yumichika sighs. "You _are not_ impaired," he corrects, handing her back her homework.

"What's wrong with usin' 'ain't' instead of 'are not'?" she asks, brow furrowing as she clutches her corrected mathematics assignment. "Ken-chan and Ikkaku use it all the time!"

Ayasekawa sniffs distastefully. "That, my dear, is because they _are _impaired."

You put up with the fruitcake's derogatory-like language because you know he's smart in a way that you can't ever be smart, and you want—you don't know why—for Yachiru to maybe be able to have that kind of smart too, in case she needs it one day.

Before long you find yourself giving her things she wants too, and not just the things she needs. Because after you get your job and your permanent home and all the good stuff that comes with those types of things, you find that you don't mind so much.

It was harder before, to save up to buy a piece of candy or a ribbon she liked when you were wandering around rukongai, busy trying to scrounge up food and purchase bandages and medicine for her because she was scatterbrained sometimes and didn't notice that last asshole sneaking up on her until the last minute.

You found a way once in a while, to get the candy or ribbon back then, because it shut her up for a couple of hours afterwards, when she got them.

Now you find that you don't mind giving them to her once in a while in seireitei too, because it still shuts her up and it's not as difficult here since you've got all the meat you want, all the bandages and medicine you need.

She still acts like getting a piece of candy is the most amazing thing in the world.

She's grown before your eyes and you find it kind of stupid of her to still think one lousy piece of candy is all that special, but part of you—you don't know which—doesn't mind that she still calls you "Ken-chan" and that she'll still take a piece of candy from you like it's gold while ignoring the boxes of the same stuff those stupid boys (who have been hanging around a lot lately) are always buying her.

But you know that you're 'impaired' in some ways and so you'll never really understand her, just like you never really understood your need to always be giving her stuff in the first place, the spoiled brat.

You suppose though, that you did what you wanted in the long run (though you still don't know _why_ you did it).

You made it possible for the little waste of flesh to make it in this world on her own. Made it so that she doesn't need you anymore.

Part of you is glad and part of you—you don't know which—kind of hates that you were so damn successful.

She doesn't need you anymore and you think that maybe she'll realize that soon (she's smarter than you now, you know) and go off on her own. You tell yourself good, because that's really what you've been waiting for all this time. Some alone time, away from the loudmouthed brat that used to cry in the middle of the night and keep you up, the one you went hungry for because she was injured and needed more meat than you to heal properly.

You've done your job and you've watched her get bigger and stronger with all the knowledge you've been able to provide.

Soon, you think, she'll be gone. Because there's nothing left that you can possibly give her.

"Ken-chan! What're you thinking about?" she asks over dinner.

You scowl at her. "Killin' stuff. And beer. Eat your vegetables."

She smiles. "Okay."

Soon, you think.

But part of you— you don't know why— hopes that it's not _too_ soon.

**END**


	341. A Simple Revival

**341. **

**Title:** A Simple Revival  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Byakuya, Yoruichi  
**Word Count:** 600 (wow, lucky!)  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc  
**Summary:** Companion drabble to #335 (Simplicity's End)- Reliving the past.  
**Dedication:** fanartist- she pretty much owns anything that has anything to do with Byakuya-bo in my work, I think. y  
**A/N: **A fic for Byakuya's birthday (sort of), hopefully I got the date right. O.o

* * *

He's in his hospital bed the night before he's scheduled for release when he hears a rapping on his window, and blinking, he gets up and opens it, peering out. 

She's standing under it, smiling up at him like they both haven't aged a hundred years since he's last seen her.

"Yo, Byakuya-bo," she greets, just like she used to when they were young.

He blinks down at her.

Remembers challenging her on the bridge.

As enemies.

"What do you want?" he asks, not letting his surprise at seeing her here show in his voice.

She frowns at him. "Che, that poker face has only gotten better, I see."

"It's late," he tells her, politely. It is.

The grin is back then, and suddenly she's perched on the window sill in front of him, causing him to take a step back. "You're so cold," she sighs, looking at him intently.

"Do you really hate me so much?"

He wants to say yes so that she'll leave him alone, because she reminds him of who he used to be, who he can't be anymore. He closes his eyes. "No."

"Then you're just sore at me, eh?"

He wants to say no to that too, because if he says yes, he'll sound like he's the same know-nothing kid he was back when he'd first met her. He'll be fifteen years old again. "Yes."

She smiles at that, and it's more sad than anything else. "Sorry, kiddo."

"I'm not a kid anymore," he responds dryly.

"It has been a while, eh?" she poses, sitting herself down gracefully. "For what it's worth, I had to go."

"I figured." He studies her in the dark then, and thinks that time hasn't changed her all that much from the her of his memories. "You're not really sorry, though."

"No, I'm not."

He knows that already anyway. "Why are you here?"

"To see you," she replies easily. "Is that so wrong?"

He wants to say yes, because she makes him feel something like joy again, just by being here, just by sitting there on his windowsill and knowing every single thing that's going through his head even before he says it. "No," he murmurs. "I'm glad you're here."

Her smile turns genuine then, and she reaches out and ruffles his hair, like she used to do in their secret meeting place inside the Kuchiki family gardens.

He reflexively shrugs out from under the intrusive touch, and she laughs at him as he tries to get his hair in order.

"Hey…" she starts after he can see again.

"What?"

"How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

Mischievous, she gets onto her feet, crouching in the window. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Great."

And then she's darting forward, pinching his nose between the knuckles of her index and middle fingers. "Tag," she declares. "You're it."

One blink later and she's gone again, out the window in a flash of lightning.

Her laughter follows her out of the room and for a moment, he does nothing but stare after her.

And then he smiles.

He makes sure the door to his room is locked before he follows her out.

It's been a hundred years and he's worked hard on his speed throughout every single one of them, always ready for the day when he'd get to chase after her again.

He pursues her through the quiet streets of seireitei as fast as he can, and as he finds himself unexpectedly echoing her sounds of laughter with his own, he is pleased to discover that even after all this time, he hasn't forgotten how to play.

**END**


	342. Foursome

**342. **

**Title:** Foursome  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira, ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 368  
**Warning/s: **OOCness and CRACK.  
**Summary:** Our couples try something new.  
**Dedication:** swinku- hope you're feeling better!   
**A/N: **I honestly don't know where the idea for this came from. Except that YumixKira would be kind of beautiful.

* * *

"I dunno if I like the idea of this," Ikkaku starts hesitantly, the bald death god in the middle of dropping his pants. 

Shuuhei rolls his eyes at the other man. "For the last goddamn time, I'm _not _gonna ogle," he insists, removing his shirt.

Ikkaku snorts at that. "Yeah well, you say this _before_ you lay eyes on Kira. But I'm tellin' ya, one look at the guy all hot'n sweaty and even you won't be able to keep from staring."

Hisagi is skeptical about Ikkaku's wild accusations "Yumi's in on it too, I don't see why ya gotta get all worked up. Besides, you agreed to this already, asshole, so quit complainin'."

"Yeah, well, I'm just warnin' ya."

Shuuhei frowns. "Well, you too. No ogling."

Ikkaku scoffs. "What, Yumi? Ain't nothin' I haven't already seen," he assures the other death god. "No new ground there, lemme tell ya."

Shuuhei glares. "You better not be saying what I think you are."

Ikkaku grins. "You ain't never gonna know…"

Shuuhei wants to slug him. "Now I'm not sure about this whole thing either."

Madarame sneers. "Just be a man and take off yer goddamn pants, wouldja Hisagi? The boys're waitin'."

Glaring at each other, the two shinigami head outside into the steam.

And both pause long enough from their glower-fest when they lay eyes on Yumichika and Izuru, who are already in the hot spring and happily getting all friendly with one another in the water, the two of them cleaning each other's backs.

It's like they don't even need their lovers.

"Mmm, you're skin is so pale, Kira-kun…"

"And yours is so smooth, Ayasekawa-san…"

Shuuhei and Ikkaku both feel it as their noses simultaneously erupt into a pair of massive, bloody messes.

Sputtering, they manage to limp back into the changing station by holding each other up. Shuuhei searches for something to stop the bleeding.

"Holy shit," Ikkaku gasps, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand.

"Yeah," Hisagi agrees, dumbly handing Ikkaku a few sheets of toilet paper.

"That was…"

"Hot. Yeah."

They look at each other then, and both decide that maybe this double-date vacation thing hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

**END**


	343. Weaknesses

**343. **

**Title:** Weaknesses  
**Rating:** PG-13 for swearing  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 690  
**Warning/s: **Strangeness.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi makes an admission.   
**Dedication:** tsukishine for urging me on (because that was totally hard, I know. XD) and idiosyn for catering to my OMGFANGIRLHEART.  
**A/N: **I did this for the last line and nothing else. So um… that's probably the only part that isn't too silly.--;;

* * *

Kenpachi's not so stupid that he thinks it's possible to be invincible. 

He knows for a fact that that ain't true. Knows that the closest you can get is "stronger than you" which is all you really need anyway. But everyone's got an Achilles Heel somewhere in them, or on them, or both.

Hell, Zaraki can even admit to having some weaknesses of his very own every now and again (to himself anyway).

So he hates it when some idiot comes along who thinks he's indestructible, who thinks he can take on the world (namely Kenpachi) and come out of it without a scratch.

The eleventh division leader usually makes it a priority to kill those idiots first. With the blunt side of his sword (more fun that way).

Morons.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that every man's got his limits.

And along those lines, Zaraki makes sure his division members know that they ain't infallible either, does his best to point out what they suck at 'cause it's his job as captain (and it's fun as all hell, really).

Ikkaku's got a survivor complex. That's retarded. Feels like if he loses and his opponent don't kill him, he's gotta complain about it. Kenpachi just beats the hell out of the asshole randomly sometimes to get him to realize that it ain't such a bad thing to survive because it gives you a chance to get stronger and pay the mother fucker that messed you up for no good reason back in the future.

Can't do that if you're dead, right?

And the bald idiot plants like a tree stump or something when he's facing off one-on-one, because the moron thinks there's something appealingly manly about standing your ground when you fight. Never retreat, always push forward or some such shit.

Idiot.

Yumichika doesn't like to get dirty when he fights. That's a world of stupid right there that Kenpachi can't seem to insult out of the pretty boy. Would rather run (show your back to the enemy? Real smart…) than mess his do up on a good hair day.

But he supposes when the idiot loses an eye or something he'll learn his lesson.

Fact that he hasn't yet proves something about the pretty boy's competence, at least.

When Iba was here Zaraki let the giant moron know that he was too sentimental. Idiot didn't like to kill enemies already incapacitated. Had a nasty scar on his hip for that clemency, but the moron hadn't learned regardless. Seemed his sentiments suited the seventh division just fine though.

Ya had to know the difference between when an opponent had to be killed and when it wasn't worth the effort. Doin' it all indiscriminately is a waste of time in Zaraki's book.

Renji was always letting that fool hair of his fall into his face. And he had an inferiority complex, which was probably a billion times worse than even Ayasekawa's retarded rule about trying not to get dirty. Always had to prove himself, Abarai did, and it pissed Kenpachi the hell off. Still does, when he thinks about it.

At least he's off proving himself to Kuchiki-hime now, or whatever.

But every man has his limitations, Zaraki supposes.

No man is invincible.

They all got weaknesses and flaws all their own, and it's simply a matter of each man (if he's worth his salt) eventually learning how to deal with his own problems himself.

So he'll give those idiot division members of his—past and present-- some more time before he condemns them to outright hopelessness.

They can't be expected to be smart enough after all, to do with their weaknesses what Kenpachi did with his right off the bat.

Right after realizing what it was.

"Oi, ya stupid brat, I told ya keep your head low, didn't I? Now charge again, pea-brain, and get it right this time, wouldja?"

"Okay, Ken-chan!"

Kenpachi's the only one of the lot he knows who's got any brains at all.

Because he took his weakness…

"Move yer ass, stupid!"

"Okay, Ken-chan!"

… and taught it how to kill shit.

**END**


	344. 11th Division: Ganjyu

**344.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 7: Ganjyu  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou  
**Word Count:** 989  
**Warning/s: **OOC and weirdness, but no real spoilers in this particular story.  
**Summary:** Related to #319 (Old Dogs, New Tricks) and sequel to #337 (Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 6: Yachiru)- Ganjyu gets a turn.   
**Dedication:** swinku. GANJYUKO MAKES BABY JESUS CRY. But in a funny way. XD That image is burned into my brain for all eternity, thank you. XD  
**A/N: **After gay club experience last night, I want warm and fuzzies and definitely less…um…undulating. SO. Ganjyuschmoopy. XD

* * *

Fujii Itsuki sighed as he tried not to gawk at the eleventh division's new third chair, who was sitting at his desk and concentrating fairly hard on clipping his toenails. On top of a pile of folders marked "URGENT" in red letters.

On Itsuki's stare, "Hana complains when they get dirt under 'em," Shiba-san explained grudgingly. "Complains about a lot a things. Says I gotta listen to people more, gotta be more sensitive, gotta stop eatin' chips in bed, gotta stop rollin' on top of him in my sleep or'm gonna suffocate him. List keeps growin'n and growin'." He paused to look at Itsuki. "You seein' anyone?"

"Um… no."

"Che, probably better off. No one to constantly nag ya that way. Er. Not that I give in to the little idiot or nothin'. Damned brat."

He grinned to himself and kept clipping.

Itsuki twitched. "Um…Shiba-san…"

"What?"

"The interview?"

"Well I can't answer anythin' less you start askin', can I?" the third seat snorted. "So ask me somethin' already. Ain't like I can't do that'n this at the same time."

"Ah yes, of course. Well. As a relatively new member to the gotei-13, I was wondering what your initial perceptions of the eleventh division were?"

"Che. Ain't been around so many damned morons in my life, is what my perception is, Fu-chan."

"F-fu…excuse me, what?"

"Fu-chan. I like it. Kinda wimpy. Suits you."

Finishing one foot, Ganjyu lifted it and wiggled his toes experimentally, causing the analyst to lean backwards.

Itsuki, not wanting to let his peers down, pressed intrepidly on.

"Um… could you please elaborate on what you find incompetent about your division?"

Ganjyu blinked. "Now, I didn't say nothin' 'bout them bein' incompetent. I said they was morons. That's different. Don't put words inta my mouth."

Itsuki's brow furrowed in confusion. "Erm… would you mind explaining the difference, Shiba-san? I'm not quite sure I follow."

"Sure," Ganjyu agreed. "'S like the difference between sayin' ya look wimpy and ya look like a girl."

Itsuki stared. "Excuse me?"

"Me sayin' ya look like a girl wouldn't necessarily mean you was wimpy, ya know. Sayin' you was wimpy would mean I thought you was wimpy. Sayin' ya look like a girl just means ya might be a bit pretty. Don't mean ya can't be strong either. Make sense?"

"Um…no."

Ganjyu glared. "What, so you're some sort of misogynist or somethin'? Don't think women can be tough? Che. Asshole, you oughta meet my nee-san."

"That's not what I…"

"What, now you goin' backwards just 'cuz I don't like your answer? Wimp."

"I'm not! No… I don't…"

Ganjyu looked at the analyst appraisingly. "You always the type of guy who's gotta try'n make himself look good in front a everyone? 'Cuz I'm tellin' ya, Fu-chan, I ain't impressed. Learn to stand your ground or somethin'. Take a position'n keep it, wouldja? Ain't manly to be swingin' back'n forth like ya are."

"I'm not… I don't _always_ do things like that!" Fujii assured him, suddenly feeling insecure under the third chair's knowing gaze.

"Not _always, _eh? That true or you just sayin' so 'cuz you're embarrassed?"

The analyst fidgeted uncomfortably as he thought about that. "I…don't know. I just…"

Ganjyu leaned forward. "Ya what?"

"I've always been this way, I suppose. My father…"

"Oh, yer old man. I see. What was he was like?"

"Well…he was…"

When Hanatarou heard about Ganjyu's interview today he ran as fast he could to the eleventh division headquarters (the gate guard let him in and no one touched him once as he headed for the third chair's office), and the little shinigami, while thankful for the larger man's vigilance, couldn't help but worry about Ganjyu's…more violent tendencies, despite what they'd earned for him and his division.

He hoped his boyfriend didn't kill the interviewer. He knew how the other man didn't like people nosing into his business.

Finding the right door the fourth division death god skidded to a halt and burst into the room, shouting, "Don't hurt him, Ganjyu-san!"

Two pairs of eyes turned to face him as he did, and he stared in astonishment as the man (whom he presumed was the analyst) blinked back at him with tearstained eyes.

"W-what did you do to him?" Hanatarou asked, voice shaking as he took in the crying academic.

Ganjyu frowned. "I ain't done nothin'. He was just tellin' me 'bout how his dad never approved of him. I was _listenin'_ is all," the third chair responded, crossing his arms and looking wounded.

Hanatarou let out a sigh of relief. "Oh."

"Um…perhaps I should go…um…thank you for um, thank you for listening to me, Shiba-san… it was very… um…cathartic," the analyst said, drying his eyes.

"Aw, no problem, Fu-chan. You're still a wimp fer cryin' like that, but suppose that just suits some people better," he explained, looking out of the corner of his eye at Hanatarou.

"Ah yes… Good day, gentlemen. It was…nice to meet you."

"Later."

Hanatarou politely stood aside as the analyst exited the room. After he was gone, he closed the door behind him, looking at Ganjyu with a mixture of confusion and admiration. "So… you were listening to him?" he asked, voice awe-filled.

Ganjyu looked away. "Maybe. Ain't you the one that said I gotta work on that some?"

Hanatarou let himself smile shyly as he crossed the room. "So you were practicing?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I just didn't wanna do that damn interview."

Hanatarou beamed and climbed into Ganjyu's lap. "That was nice of you," he said.

Ganjyu snorted. "Yeah. Whatever."

And then peering down, Hanatarou blinked again. "You cut your toenails."

"Yeah. Suppose I did."

Yamada couldn't help but laugh a little bit. "Does this mean you'll stop eating chips in bed too?"

Ganjyu scoffed, though he wrapped his arms around the other shinigami's waist anyway. "Che. Don't push your luck there, sweetheart."

Hanatarou sighed. "It was worth a shot."

**END**


	345. Just a Note to Say Hi

**345. **

**Title:** Just a Note to Say Hi  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightlyKyouxUki  
**Word Count:** 637  
**Warning/s: **Sappy, but nothing big.  
**Summary:** Kyouraku passes notes in class.  
**Dedication:** for meiyanohi (in hopes that you'll write this pairing yourself!) and kouriarashi for the icon. Also for fallofrain and tomomichi and the other people who like this pairing who I can't name off the top of my head.  
**A/N: **I am indeed easy to bribe, for kouriarashi made me a pretty Yumi icon, and thus, I have written KyouxUki like I said I would. ;; Haha I am almost at my 100 limit for icons! Wee! X3 Haha and the theme of this is as is because I've been feeling old this week. --;; Ah the days of my youth.

* * *

Ukitake remembers how Shunsui had always been passing notes in class, back in their academy days.

Kyouraku couldn't be bothered to pay attention to their lessons of course, being a self-proclaimed prodigy, and so he'd spent the majority of his days flirting with cute girls and pretty boys, winning everyone's attention because it was his favorite thing to do and _much_ more entertaining than studying.

Jyuushirou remembers a dozen times when he'd been sitting at the front of the room-- diligently taking notes of course-- when all of a sudden, a little wadded up piece of paper would be tossed onto his desk.

He'd frown and open it up to read it. After he did, he always found himself wondering if it was really worth risking detention on the other boy's part just to say something like-

_Hi, Jyuu-chan. How are you feeling today?_

_Love,_

_Shun_

- it had certainly been a question that the other boy could have saved for after class, after all.

But Shunsui never did, and the daily notes had mystified Ukitake for the longest time because they'd made absolutely no practical sense.

As time passed, he began to learn that a lot about Kyouraku didn't make any practical sense.

Eventually, he'd written it off to the follies of youth and the fact that Shunsui seemed to have an abundance of it. So he indulged it over their years together as students, let himself get used to the constant bombardment of little wadded up pieces of paper that made no practical sense at all.

_Jyuu-chan,_

_Hope you're feeling better today. Your hair looks lovely._

_Love,_

_Shun_

_Jyuu-chan,_

_Is lunch under the White Birch okay for today? Smile if that's a yes. _

_Love,_

_Shun_

_Jyuu-chan,_

_Study at my dorm tonight? I'll behave this time, promise. ;;_

_Love, _

_Shun_

_Jyuu-chan,_

_Congrats on making first place in the written exams! I knew you could do it. _

_Love,_

_Shun_

_Jyuu-chan,_

_Celebratory drinks tonight after the graduation ceremony? Just you and me?_

_Love,_

_Shun_

_Jyuu-chan,_

_Different division assignments suck, but I'll be around to see you as much as I can, okay? Promise!_

_Love, _

_Shun_

And so it had gone year after year, and Ukitake remembers how for a time, he'd somehow gotten into the habit of enjoying those strange little notes from Kyouraku every day, remembers how he would sometimes find himself waiting for a wadded up piece of paper to roll onto his desk while he was writing, even after the two of them had been forced apart by their separate division assignments.

But just like he'd learned to expect those meaningless little notes daily, he's eventually learned not to again.

Now, now he just expects it once every seven days, when they're standing in Yamamoto-soutaichou's meeting chamber during the weekly captains' assembly.

He always stands near Shunsui, and when Yama-jii isn't looking, the eighth division leader will toss him a little wadded up piece of paper.

Every week, without fail.

This week it says,

_Ne, Jyuu-chan,_

_I miss you. Smile back if you miss me too, ne?_

_Love,_

_Shun_

And even though it's a little bit immature, Jyuushirou offers Shunsui an exasperated smile in return, before he tucks the note quickly into his sleeve, thinking that the other man is still really mystifying, even after all this time.

Because of all the people he knows, Ukitake believes that Kyouraku is the only one in the universe who could have turned a little wadded up piece of paper with a bunch of silly questions written on it into one of Ukitake Jyuushirou's most important treasures.

True, it's not the same as having one every day like he did back when they were young, but, he supposes with a little smile, it's understandable.

Everyone slows down a little bit as they get older, after all.

**END **


	346. Most Precious

**346. **

**Title:** Most Precious  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly GinxKira, Rangiku  
**Word Count:** 758  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers a bit for Gin and Ran's backstory?  
**Summary:** pre SS arc- Ran watches Gin and Kira.  
**Dedication:** for para, because I'm being a bit psychotic and going through the bleachexchange requests of my friends. I think I'm going to try doing all the ones my div members didn't get for them and one for each of my friends (of what they didn't get). Hopefully I won't go crazy halfway through this mission and give up. --;; Here goes nothing!  
**A/N: **The prompt was: _"Where the feeling's mutual and it's not sad/unrequited/etc, and Gin's not preoccupied with Aizen/Matsumoto/everyone not Kira. Sentiment would be appreciated."_ I uh… hope this works.

* * *

He's teasing with many people, aloof in the friendliest of ways. He smiles at everyone but means it to very few, and as a result, not many of the other shinigami trust him.

They believe in his power, but not his friendship.

She isn't as close to him as she once was so she can see it, can see how that smile might be unsettling, how those sly, seemingly harmless little jokes he likes to tease with could make one wary.

She remembers a time in the past when they were best friends, when she could look at him and not see any of those negative things at all.

His smile was a smile back then, his jokes really harmless.

They're not the same as they used to be though, and now she can squint and find it, that thing about Ichimaru that makes her taichou shudder, that makes Rukia freeze, that makes Rangiku's own muscles tense sometimes, when they pass one another in a hallway and he asks about her health.

She thinks it's a little bit sad that she of all people can understand that pang of coldness that enters her blood when she sees him. It almost feels like a betrayal, because once, all they had in the universe was each other.

Don't get her wrong, she still feels friendship towards him, still thinks of him as one of her closest friends.

It's just that now, she understands a little, why taichou shudders, why Rukia freezes. It's such a small thing and such a big thing all at the same time.

But she can't help that this is how she feels.

She comforts herself with the fact that now, Kira looks at Gin in the same way she used to.

The little blonde vice-captain smiles back at Ichimaru when his captain fixes that unsettling grin on him. He believes in it, believes in every bit of its sincerity.

He blushes and stammers when Gin teases him, takes it completely as a harmless game between the two of them, eyes shining earnestly at the other man when they interact like that.

It seems like such a little thing to do really, to believe so sincerely in someone, but Rangiku knows that to Gin, it might be one of the most important things in the world.

She used to be his best friend so she knows. Even after all this time and the distance that has spread before them, she knows that Kira Izuru's honest faith in Ichimaru softens the other man's sharp smiles just a little bit. Not enough for just anyone to notice, of course. But she can see it, the way that smile becomes ever-so-slightly gentler when it is aimed at Kira, the way those teasing comments sound just a tad sweeter than the ones he graces everyone else with.

She feels a little bit relieved really, that Kira can do that for him, what she can no longer.

She hopes that this time, this time it will work for her friend.

Because she's discovered that there's something about Gin that makes him stop at a certain point, that he has some invisible line drawn in the sand he has doesn't let himself cross. She reached it once before, because since then, their friendship has slipped backwards and she has been placed in a category of his heart, perhaps above where just everyone else lies, but not as special as where she once was.

He pulled away from her one day, and she watched him, helpless as he faded out a little bit, from her life.

She isn't the one who he smiles more gently for anymore, the one he speaks more kindly too.

Gin looks at Kira that way now, perhaps even more so. His vice-captain is the one person he has in the world now who doesn't freeze up when Ichimaru reaches out, who smiles back and means everything he says when Gin looks at him just so.

Rangiku can't help but hope that that line she crossed once is gone now, that Kira can push through as Gin's precious person and stay there, help her old friend smile genuinely and speak easily.

She hopes for it.

But even so, when she looks at him now, she shivers slightly and thinks that a part of her believes that it's impossible, no matter how hard Kira tries, no matter how strongly he believes in Gin.

She hates that she can't have the same faith in her friend that Kira does in his captain.

**END**


	347. Your servant

**347. **

**Title:** Your Servant  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly AizenxIchigo (but not really?)  
**Word Count:** 487  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for up to the early Arrankar arc. Also, some OOC, I think, and randomness.  
**Summary:** Aizen remembers the boy's face.  
**Dedication:** for ignipotent- it's weird that it's not ByakuyaxIchigo! Haha But I guess you got that one already, ne? Hope this is okay too. --;; It was HARD. --;;  
**A/N: **The request was "AizenxGin" and the prompt was "Servitude". I'm not sure if this qualifies, because it's mostly… one-sided?-- ;;

* * *

Images of the boy's will were still burned brightly into his mind.

He could still perfectly remember the way that, just before the cavalry arrived, he'd felt Kurosaki's reiatsu curling around him even as he'd lain there bleeding, the boy wanting so much to protect Kuchiki Rukia that he'd started to burn his own life force in order to get to his feet, to charge once again.

Aizen felt that it was that sort of determination that excited him, made him smile and want nothing more than to take it into his possession and lovingly, torturously, break it in half.

Kurosaki Ichigo's face remained a startling image in his head even as he sat on his throne atop Heuco Mundo, surrounded by his adoring family and loyal servants.

It was the determined eyes of one young boy that touched something deep and sinister in his heart.

And he found himself thinking that perhaps it would be alright to indulge himself, to one day bring that would-be shinigami back to his stronghold here and methodically break him apart layer by layer, until that admirable determination bled from his eyes and he looked at Aizen as all others who challenged him did. With fear, with resignation, until all that was left belonged wholly to Aizen.

He wanted to take the young body of Kurosaki Ichigo in his own two hands and squeeze until it bowed under his strength, until the child realized how truly helpless he was in this world and let himself go. Let that determination and angry defiance fade away into nothing.

Aizen wanted to break something that he believed no one else in the world could.

The anticipation consumed him.

"What are Aizen-sama's thoughts, I wonder?" Ulquiorra posed quietly, looking at his leader, his father, as the former shinigami sat in his magnificent chair.

The look in his lord's eye was wild almost, far from the calm reassurance that suffused the man's usual aura. He seemed lost in some heady dream, a spark in his expression that made the young Arrankar simultaneously excited and frightened. Ulquiorra turned to Tousen then, the blind man somehow, impossibly, beholding more than anyone else could merely see.

"Are his dreams very grand?" the Arrankar murmured, placing a hand over the spot where his heart would be beating very fast if he'd had one.

Tousen's mouth was set in a grim line. After a moment, the other betrayer turned and walked away from Aizen and his wonderful throne. "Come, Ulquiorra."

Ulquiorra obediently followed Tousen out of the main hall at the death god's behest, not pressing his question when the former captain didn't answer it right away.

As they walked, the sound of Aizen's laughter followed them out.

It was several moments later when Tousen paused abruptly, turning to his charge. "His dreams are grand," the blind man said, dully.

"But," he continued, softer, "every man is a servant to something."

**END**


	348. Friendly Competition

**348. **

**Title:** Friendly Competition  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IzuruxRenji  
**Word Count:** 389  
**Warning/s: **Um… OOCness and crack? But only mild spoilers for the whole academy thing I guess? O.o  
**Summary:** Renji and Kira have a friendly rivalry.  
**Dedication:** para- your other request! And I am done with yours. XD Hopefully this isn't too lame.  
**A/N: **The request was:_ "Being competitive back in Academy days, or something."_

_

* * *

_

Renji had kicked the arrogant fucker's ass in battle class today. The blonde now had a nice, long bokuto-shaped welt along his back, where Abarai had whacked him good.

Kira had blasted him back during their kidoh sparring though, and now the redhead had a bruise shaped like a palm on his chest from the discharge of force.

After that, he'd redoubled his efforts and managed to finish his lunch faster than Kira, had even downed the "mystery juice" some of their other classmates had mixed together using various cafeteria liquids on a dare, doing something that Kira obviously didn't have the balls to. Kira had nearly vomited at the smell alone.

Kira had gotten 100 accuracy on the written exam they'd had in battle tactics last week. Renji had passed (barely) with a 70 score and a warning look from the teacher.

Later, Renji had chatted up some (four, exactly) cute underclassman during a break and successfully got the prettiest one of the bunch to blush and giggle at him.

Kira had been chatted up by some (four, exactly) hot upperclassmen girls until his cheeks had turned pink from the attention. The four girls all blushed at the same time in response.

After school, Renji had gotten back to the dormitory first--he'd taken a shortcut through an open window despite an instructor yelling at him, and gotten an edge on the blonde.

Kira made it to the room less than a minute later, but somehow managed to get his clothes off faster than Renji, who'd inexplicably gotten his hair tangled up in his sleeve as he'd rushed to undress.

"Fuck!" the redhead cursed when he turned around and saw that Kira was naked already and waiting for him, the cocky son of a bitch grinning from ear to ear in anticipation.

"That's four for me today, Renji."

Renji scowled. "Three," he muttered, conceding defeat.

Izuru beamed and rubbed his hands together. "Second time this week is it?"

"Shut the hell up," Renji snapped, crawling into the bed. "You better be gentler this time, asshole, or the next time I win I'm tying you the fuck up."

The blonde snickered and climbed in after him, responding with a wry, "I guess I just won't let you win ever again then."

"_Let me_? The hell does that… OW! FUCKER!"

**END**


	349. Morning Dally

**349. **

**Title:** Morning Dally  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 602  
**Warning/s: **Dirty talk, but nothing spoilery. Some sap.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei and Yumichika in the early mornings.  
**Dedication:** This was kind of inspired by the Div-14 P-chat session, so I'm going to have to dedicate this to swinku, kshi, jenkat, para, and in her own small way, friarslantern.  
**A/N: **Just something silly and rather random to get my mind off of paper mode a little bit so I can breathe. --;;

* * *

"What are you smiling about?" Yumichika asked that morning as they lounged around in bed before breakfast.

Shuuhei grinned and tugged his lover closer. "Heh. Last night I dreamed you had boobs. And that you let me grope you for a while, right under your pajamas."

Yumichika rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. I should be insulted." He sniffed. "Luckily for you I already know I would look equally as magnificent with breasts as I do now, so I can't blame you."

"Yeah well…" Shuuhei sighed and wrapped his arms more securely around the other man. Yumi knew he loved him. He also knew that in the vice-captain's past life, Shuuhei had been a complete and utter breast-man.

So he indulged these little fantastic dreams of his lover's every now and again, because the fifth chair was magnanimous like that and not petty at all.

Still… "Do you miss women?" he posed, furrowing his brow as he snuggled into the other man's hold.

"Not any one woman in particular," Shuuhei admitted. "Sometimes just my favorite parts," he amended, because one of the things he treasured most about loving Yumichika was the fact that the truth (even the shameless truth) was something they never feared hearing from one another.

"Hmmm," Yumi replied, sounding thoughtful.

Shuuhei grinned again, and stroked his fingertips along the slope of the other man's spine. "You know though," he started, slyly, "I've got other favorite parts right here that I don't mind getting to grope so much."

"Oh?"

"Like this ass? This is an amazing ass. I could grope this ass all day," he murmured, doing exactly that.

"Shuuhei!" Yumichika laughed breathlessly, squirming in surprise as two big palms suddenly clamped down around his rump and squeezed hard. He smacked his chuckling boyfriend's chest and pouted. "I'm going to have handprints now."

"They'll go nicely with the bite marks from last night," Shuuhei breathed, feeling smug as Yumi writhed in protest.

"I hope you know there are dire consequences for marring this perfect ass!" Yumichika threatened, smacking Shuuhei again.

"Oh baby, yes please," the vice-captain murmured, leaning down to snatch a firm, sweet kiss.

Yumichika pulled back first, wrinkling his nose. "No one believes me when I tell them what a pervert you are in bed," he stated.

Shuuhei grinned. "Well, baby. Some things are just for you." Pause. "Say… you ever have any dirty dreams about me?"

Yumichika scoffed, daintily. "How crude."

Hisagi's eyes glittered. "Heh. That's a definite yes, then. So what'd you dream about? Probably not boobs, huh?"

"I dreamed," Yumi began, tugging Shuuhei forward impatiently. "That you shut up and made good on your shameless groping."

Shuuhei chuckled and rolled them over, propping himself up on his elbows and happily looming over the smaller man. "All I ever wanted in life was to make your dreams come true, baby," he murmured, voice full of promise.

Yumichika arched an eyebrow. "Well you better be able to make all my dreams come true in twenty minutes if we don't want to be late for work," he prompted, motioning to the clock on the nightstand.

Shuuhei rolled his eyes this time. "And no one believes_ me _when I tell them what a prig you can be in bed," he countered, before leaning down and touching their noses together. "Now shut up for a second and lemme work here, huh?"

Yumi looked up at him challengingly. "I'm riveted, fukutaichou."

Shuuhei snickered. "No, but you will be once I get these shorts off."

"How crude," Yumichika admonished, gleefully.

As it was, they were only a little bit late for work that morning.

**END**


	350. 11th Division: Kenpachi

**350. **

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 8: Kenpachi  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 228  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just um… well. I hope everyone remembers the other fics in this series. O.o  
**Summary: **Sequel to #344 (Eleventh Division- Building the Leaders of Tomorrow Pt 7: Ganjyu)- The study comes full circle. **  
Dedication:** Vinnie- happy belated b-day.  
**A/N: **I realized that my "drabbles" were getting too long again. So. Snip snip!

* * *

"And to conclude, Zaraki-taichou, Fujii-san has resigned to go on a journey of reconciliation with his father—not an actual reconciliation mind you, a mental one that doesn't actually involve speaking to his father—Kuroki-san has an inexplicable crush on the third division vice-captain but twitches every time someone brings it up, like he's being slapped. Kimishima-san's injuries will heal, but I'm afraid the scarring will be permanent. As for me, well. I suppose Ayasekawa-taichou has opened up a whole new world of possibility."

Kenpachi stared at the idiot standing in his office as he tottered on and on, the eleventh division leader growing bored.

"As for what we learned about your division… we now know that you make future captains by throwing inkwells at them, Ikkaku-san waxes his head, Iba-san can't read all too well, Ayasekawa-san is pretty, and young Yachiru likes to finger paint. On people's faces. That's it. That's all we learned."

Zaraki grunted noncommittally.

"Well? Is that all you have to say?" Sachikawa demanded, feeling something very close to hysteria starting to overwhelm him as he witnessed the captain's seeming indifference.

After a moment however, Zaraki furrowed his brow and sat up straighter in his chair.

Sachikawa held his breath, waiting for something. Anything.

Kenpachi cleared his throat.

And then, "Who in the hell are you, and what the fuck are you talking about?"

**END**


	351. Chocolate Art

**351.**

**Title:** Chocolate Art  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IshidaxIchigo  
**Word Count:** 330  
**Warning/s: **Innuendo, but no real spoilers.  
**Summary:** Ishida appreciates art in any form.  
**Dedication:** kshi- LOOK I put the strawberry on the bottom for once. XD  
**A/N: **Silly fluffy Valentine's story that I pounded out before I have to go turn in my paper and edit ALL DAY in the lab. After that I have my night class until 10 pm and well. Happy V-day. O.o

* * *

It's Valentine's Day and Ishida gets lots of chocolate from lots of people because he's smart, good-looking, and the head of the arts and crafts club, which means most of the girls in school know him (and envy his skill).

He doesn't eat chocolate all that much because he doesn't like the way it sticks to his teeth when it melts on his tongue, though he does have a certain fondness for the occasional odd filling—strawberry, orange, pecans, hazelnut, fluffy nougat, for example—and a pretty, well-made chocolate can always stir his inner artist if not his taste buds.

So on Valentine's Day Ishida always get a lot of chocolate from many people, and while he doesn't go to the trouble of eating them all, he always appreciates the sentiment, the skill that goes into creating each piece.

Even when it's amateurish and boorishly done.

"Here," Ichigo says without preamble, tossing a shrink-wrapped red heart at the Quincy and making a face. "Your damn chocolate, asshole."

He catches the gift and pushes his glasses up. "Thank you," he says, though what he wants to say is that Ichigo has no sense of creativity. No romance.

Ichigo blinks, because he'd obviously been expecting some sort of smartass rejoinder. "Er. You're welcome. Though I still don't see why _I_ gotta give it to you _today_ instead of next month, ya bossy fucker," he adds, just for adding's sake.

Ishida smirks. "It's the sentiment that counts. What kind of chocolate is it?"

Ichigo wants to roll his eyes. "Just regular chocolate, what you wanted something fancy? Che. Figures."

"No, it's fine," Ishida assures him, eyes full of promise.

On that look, Ichigo swallows and takes a suspicious step backwards. "Oi…the hell're you planning, you perverted bastard?"

Ishida simply smiles back and tucks the box of chocolate in his schoolbag.

He figures he can add the strawberry filling himself, later tonight.

Of the two of them, he's the only real artist after all.

**END**


	352. Babysitting: Ikkaku

**352.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Adventures in Babysitting Part 1: Ikkaku  
**Rating:** PG-13 for swearing?  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yachiru, Ikkaku, Yumichika  
**Word Count:** 993  
**Warning/s: **Minor (but not really) spoilers for Eleventh members' shared history.   
**Summary:** Members of the Eleventh Division pre-Eleventh Division- Ikkaku and Yachiru.  
**Dedication:** Ann- haha just 'cuz. XD  
**A/N: **I don't know what prompted this… maybe re-watching parts of the third season of Angel with Christine.-- ;;

* * *

She'd gotten her fool self hit in the head today during a fight against some two-bit bandits, and while she looked fine (mostly), she'd quieted down some since then, enough that Kenpachi had gotten moody over it, which made everyone else (except for Yumichika) moody too.

And now Ikkaku was stuck babysitting the brat while Zaraki had gone to turn in the bandits for their bounties and Yumichika went off to secure a place to sleep for the night.

It wasn't that Ikkaku had anything against the kid, but he didn't see the sense in carrying a babe around, especially considering how bad it was for their image. The amount of times they'd been attacked on the road simply because they had a kid with them was astounding. Asshole bandits didn't have no qualms about attacking what looked like a family—easy targets and all that.

Though Ikkaku supposed having Yumichika along didn't really help either, considering how often he was confused for Yachiru's mom.

But the real problem was the baby, especially considering how touchy Kenpachi got on the subject, and while Ikkaku had great respect for the man he'd recently decided to follow, he thought that caring for a kid just didn't do a man's reputation any good. It was a hard life out here, and you had to get an edge however you could.

Yachiru blinked back up at him from his arms, looking aware but only dully so.

There was a big purple bruise over her left eye, and it was starting to swell shut.

"Hell, kid," he muttered. "You better learn to keep up on your own soon, ya know? I won't be 'round to look after ya forever," he chided.

When she didn't react he winced internally. "Alright, I'll admit, you're pretty good, you know. For your age."

She blinked again.

He sighed. "You need somethin' to eat. You want somethin' to eat? Sure. Good amount of meat, you'll be better in no time."

He shifted her weight to the other arm and dug in his pocket, coming up with his last bit of money from their previous haul. He sighed. "Alright, well, this one's on me, kid."

That said, he headed for the nearest bar.

When he stepped in it was smoky and loud even for early evening, and frowning, he trudged through the masses towards the back of the room to find a table.

When the patrons saw him, it was like a switch had been flipped.

Everything got real quiet real fast.

"Oi… no kids in this establishment, buddy," the bartender yelled, glaring at him. "This ain't no family joint."

Ikkaku ignored him and sat down, adjusting Yachiru in his lap.

"Geez, does that kid have a black eye?" one man asked, sounding horrified. "Hey buddy, what the hell is this, huh? You beat your kid or somethin'?"

"Ain't my kid," Ikkaku responded levelly, setting his change on the table. "Somethin' to eat here?" he called, motioning to one of the staring waitresses.

"What, so you stole someone's kid or somethin'?"

Ikkaku's jaw twitched. "Would you shut the fuck up and lemme just get some goddamned food?"

"God, and the language," another man admonished. "Trash."

Yachiru began to fuss in his lap then, and he figured a kid that'd been hit in the head shouldn't have to listen to a bunch of idiots shouting so loud. Wouldn't help her ache none.

Ikkaku sighed and stood, setting Yachiru down in the chair in his stead. "Look," he started. "I had a long ass day, alright? Now will someone get me some stew or somethin' for the kid here? And keep yer damn voices down, she's a bit roughed up. Once we get some chow we'll be outta your hair, no problem, alright?"

"Oh we'll help ya get out of here, ya no good rotten baby beatin' thief!"

Ikkaku sighed.

Looking over his shoulder towards Yachiru, he muttered, "Watch the damn money, wouldja, brat?" to the toddler before turning around and lunging forward.

When Yumichika found them sometime later—after following the trail of limping, bloody men coming out of the bar-- he noticed with some satisfaction that the idiot had managed not to kill anyone today. He rather didn't want to be chased out of town after going through the trouble of getting them all a good price on some rooms and an actual bath.

Spotting them in the back, he headed towards the pair, noting with some amusement, the rather domestic scene he was intruding upon.

Yachiru seemed to be in higher spirits now, Ikkaku spoon-feeding her from a bowl of warm stew. The little girl laughed happily every time he made the "Here comes the birdy!" announcement, dipping and swooping the spoon theatrically towards her mouth.

Quirking a brow, Yumichika stood to the side and watched the pair for a while.

After the third, "Woooosh!" he cleared his throat.

Ikkaku blinked and turned to look at the newcomer then, immediately losing his stupid grin. "Er, and that's how ya eat a man's stew, ya bratty little pain in the ass!" he finished, unconvincingly.

Yumichika snickered and Ikkaku set the spoon down, looking sheepish. "Well, least she's happy again," he protested, lamely.

Yumichika smiled. "Of course," and picked a napkin up from the table to wipe Yachiru's mouth with. "I thought you didn't like kids?"

Ikkaku sighed. "Well, I guess this one's okay," he admitted to his friend. "She uh… she backed me up in the fight just now."

"Did she?"

Madarame gestured to one of the unconscious bodies behind the table. "Used that same move that hit her earlier today. Guess she learns pretty quick."

Yumichika beamed. "Zaraki-san will be so proud when he hears."

Ikkaku grinned. "Ya think?" He turned to Yachiru. "Well I guess ya did good then, huh squirt?"

"Birdie!" she proclaimed, pointing at his spoon and smiling.

He smiled back and picked it up again. "Yeah, okay, okay. Birdie."

**END**


	353. Nissan's Gift

**353.**

**Title:** Niisan's Gift  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KaienxMiyako, Ganjyu, Kuukaku  
**Word Count:** 885  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Shiba backstory, I suppose. ;; Probably lots of OOC. Sap. Melodrama. The works!  
**Summary:** Ganjyu remembers meeting his new big sister.  
**Dedication:** Idiosyn- I don't think this is what you had in mind, but this is what I came up with. --;;  
**A/N: **So, another one of those bleachexchange prompts one of my friends made. I am obviously sucking at this though, because this is so sappy it makes me wince at the thought. Anyway, the prompt was: _"I know it's tough without knowing her name, but I'd like, if possible, to be her meeting the rest of the Shiba clan." _Um, I don't think I quite succeeded in anything, but it was worth the try, right? I'm not even sure if this actually makes an ounce of sense. O.o Oh, and "Lady Shiba's" name taken from the anime, because I thought it would be easier with a name. --;;

* * *

He remembers the neesan his niisan had brought home for them, the one who had been nothing at all like neesans as he'd come to know them.

Ganjyu doesn't remember his mother very well because he'd been young the last time he got to see her, but Kuukaku helped him reminisce sometimes, and she always grinned and teased him about what a momma's boy he used to be, how he'd cling to their mother's skirts like the snot-nosed brat he was, never coming out of her shadow if he didn't have to.

He can't quite recall it very vividly on his own, but with his neesan's help he remembers a kind smile and warm hands, a nice laugh and a pretty smell.

Kaien brought home something like that one day, he remembers. He'd been kind of shy then too, still small but not small enough to hide behind Kuukaku like he almost wanted to, so he'd looked down at the ground instead, when the pretty neesan his brother brought home had smiled and knelt in front of him.

He remembers how Miyako-neesan had touched his cheek and told him what a very strong looking young boy he was, how she'd bowed and said that she was very happy to get to be part of his family from now on.

He remembers he'd turned a little pink then too, feeling her hand warm against his cheek, and he'd looked up at his brother and asked, voice awe-filled, how it was possible just to get a brand new neesan just like that.

Kaien had grinned then, taking his wife-to-be's hand. "Just one of these, champ!" he'd announced with a laugh, thumbing the shining ring on Miyako-neesan's finger.

She'd laughed back with him, sweet and lovely, before turning back to Ganjyu and saying, "That and many other things, Ganjyu. But you'll learn them when you get older, ne?"

Kuukaku had snorted at that, saying brats would always be brats, and Miyako had smiled at her too, tilting her head to the side and saying, "Well, his big sisters will just have to teach him everything they can, don't you think?"

He remembers how Kuukaku had blinked then, and he knows now that it had been because Miyako had reminded the younger girl of her mother at that moment, the new first lady of the Shiba very similar to the one that had come and gone before her.

Both had been stately, beautiful, wise.

Ganjyu remembers for a time, clinging to Miyako-neesan's skirts and loving her smile, enjoying her laughter and the way she seemed to make all the siblings' lives a little fuller, a little sweeter.

Looking back now, he thinks his brother must have known that Miyako could give his younger siblings something he couldn't, not matter how hard he worked to make their lives happy, no matter how much he strived to make the hole their parents' deaths had caused seem a little less gaping.

His brother had always been looking out for them, no matter what.

Ganjyu remembers that Miyako had smelled like flowers.

And for a time, he'd gotten to learn for himself, what it felt like to have someone like a mother again.

Now, because of that, Ganjyu has memories he doesn't need his neesan to help him come up with anymore, and when he thinks of Miyako-neesan and Kaien-niisan and how happy they'd all been together, even for such a short time, he can only be thankful for having gotten that chance to make those memories

His brother had given him, with all his love, the knowledge of what it's like to be loved by parents.

And even the feeling of having to lose those parents for a second time can't dirty the memory of what his brother and his new sister had given him, though it hurts so much he feels like throwing up whenever he thinks about how they died.

Now, now it's only he and his neesan left.

There's a lot on Kuukaku's shoulders now, and while he knows she's definitely strong enough to take it, Ganjyu knows that he has to do his part too, as a brother did. Like Kaien did for them.

Because niisan taught him that there comes a time when a man has to take care of his family.

And so, on those hardest nights when his sister has to deal with the whole world on her shoulders, Ganjyu sits beside her and helps her reminisce about what a brat she'd been before, always going out of her way to outshine him in winning Miyako-neesan's approval.

He's sure she can recall those things vividly on her own most of the time, but he also knows that sometimes, because she's the oldest now and everything is on her shoulders, it's a little bit harder for those memories to stay clear.

That's when it's his turn to step in and help her remember everything wonderful niisan had been able to give them.

He doesn't let Kuukaku forget how nice it was to get to have both Kaien and Miyako in their lives, even if only for a little while.

Because those are memories that are their own, that no one can ever take from them.

It was the best present Kaien could have ever given them.

**END**


	354. Chocolate Bliss

**354.**

**Title:** Chocolate Bliss  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly, vaguely, not-really ZangetsuxIchigo ish?  
**Word Count:** 412  
**Warning/s: **The OOC BURNS. --;;  
**Summary:** Zangetsu is getting weird readings from Ichigo today.  
**Dedication:** emlan- haha hope this is okay for you. --;;  
**A/N: **Another bleachexchange prompt stolen and used for my little self-challenge here. These continue to be… not easy. ;; Prompt: "_Does Zangetsu even know about Valentines Day?"_

_

* * *

_

Zangetsu feels many of the things Ichigo feels as he lingers in that sideways inside world.

He feels Ichigo's sadness, his anger, his frustration and his fear.

He feels his joy too, his laughter, his excitement, his ease.

Today he feels something odd in light of all those other things he's felt from his young charge before.

It's like a mix of excitement and frustration all at the same time, and through it all, he can't tell whether it is joy or anger Ichigo is feeling right now.

It's so disconcerting that he manifests himself to the boy after the fourth or fifth initial shock of sensation.

Ichigo blinks when he sees the weapon's spiritual form, and the chocolate he had been about to eat falls from his fingers. "Er…what's up, old man?" he asks, looking embarrassed at having been caught indulging himself on all of the Valentine's chocolates he'd gotten at school today.

The sword's brow furrows. "What battle are you fighting now?" he asks, looking around the room.

Ichigo blinks. "Erm…huh?"

Zangetsu takes a step forward. "Your senses are unreadable suddenly, Ichigo," he says, looking at the box of half eaten candy. "What are those?"

Ichigo blinks again. "What, you never had chocolate before, old man?"

Zangetsu stares back at him.

"Er…right. Sorry," the boy apologizes, before standing up, box in hand. "Well… here. Might as well try one while you're here," he offers, taking a truffle from the box and presents it to his zanpakutou.

Zangetsu doesn't move.

"Oi… it ain't gonna kill you or anything. It's good, I promise."

"These must be the things causing your strange sensations," the sword surmises.

Ichigo looks down at the candy in his hand. "What these? They don't cause any…" he trails off, suddenly remembering something odd Ishida had said today in class, something about eating enough chocolate to alter one's mental and physiological state.

Kurosaki looks around the room.

He's only eaten maybe, two not-so-big boxes of the stuff.

He blushes a little.

"Er… they don't usually cause any weird…sensations," he clarifies. "Now are you gonna eat it or not?"

Zangetsu doesn't budge.

Growing impatient, Ichigo steps forward and just pushes the candy into the stubborn soul slayer's mouth. "It ain't gonna kill you," he mutters, rolling his eyes.

The sword blinks.

Chews.

Swallows.

Ichigo grins. "Good, right?"

"Those are unquestionably the cause of your altered physical state," Zangetsu announces, with finality.

He sits down.

Holds out his hand.

"More, please."

**END**


	355. Insert Foot

**355.**

**Title:** Insert Foot  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira   
**Word Count:** 238  
**Warning/s: **OOCness and silly stuff, but no real spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Ikkaku has a way with words.  
**Dedication:** swinku- because even when it's dumb like this, I know she can appreciate crack. And I felt like pairing crack just now. XD  
**A/N: **Not a request, just something for my own amusement as I sit here sort-of paying attention to the article I'm reading paragraph by agonizing paragraph (but at least I'm taking breaks in-between… XD). Yay work ethic? Also, Kira is too damn skinny. Geezus.

* * *

"Hey, you're gainin' weight."

Kira looks back at Ikkaku on that statement, plainly horrified. "I-I am?"

Ikkaku's smile falters. "Didn't mean it like that!" he hastily amends. "Just sayin'… you're lookin' healthier."

The blonde looks wounded.

"Not that ya looked bad before!" Madarame adds, quickly. "Ya just looked sorta…frail."

Kira pouts.

Ikkaku panics. "But you weren't! Frail, that is. Uh, because vice-captains can't be, on account of their bein' vice-captains and all that. Ya just looked it, okay? But everyone knew ya wasn't."

Izuru appears unimpressed with Madarame's weak attempt at yanking his foot out of his mouth.

Intrepid, Ikkaku pushes on, all the while telling himself there has to be lighted path, somewhere in these, his darkened woods. "And uh… heh, I guess you bein' so damn skinny could even be a weapon to your advantage, sorta. I mean, I know I nearly lose an eye whenever them switchblade elbows of yours start flyin' in bed and…" he trails off right about there, because his lover looks downright miffed at this point.

He pauses.

"Um…"

Kira crosses his arms.

He sighs. "I'm just gonna shut up now'n go get my pillow." He scratches his head. "The couch, right?"

Izuru sniffs and heads into the bedroom. "That would be best."

"Two days?"

"Three."

The bedroom door shuts.

Ikkaku stares at it. "Um… darlin'? Pillow?"

The door opens, and his pillow hits him in the face.

"Uh… thanks, babe."

**END**


	356. Babysitting: Yumichika

**356.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Adventures in Babysitting Part 2: Yumichika  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yumichika, Yachiru, Kenpachi, Ikkaku  
**Word Count: **585  
**Warning/s: **None that I can think of.  
**Summary:** Yumichika takes care to teach Yachiru how to behave properly.  
**Dedication:** sophiap- this isn't your bleachexchange fic, haha but maybe it'll tide you over until it shows up? ;;  
**A/N: **More stuff for just my amusement. --;; I should go to sleep or something. O.o

* * *

"I uh, just wanted to uh, warn ya, ma'am, that it ain't exactly safe to be hanging out 'round these parts alone, 'specially when it's just you'n your daughter just like that."

Yumichika blinks and eyes the man who is obviously hitting on him, and with an internal (but beautiful) roll of his eyes, he hefts Yachiru more squarely in his arms and moves to respond.

"Now uh… I ain't got anything particular I need to do today, so why don't I escort you to wherever it is you're goin', sweetheart? It'd be the gentlemanly thing to do," the man pushes, before Ayasegawa can get a word in. "I mean, it'd be wrong to just leave you'n the girl out in the open like this, no one to protect ya, and…"

Yumi sighs when he realizes the idiot isn't going to let him get a word in, and turning to the little girl in his arms, he says, "Now Yachiru, pay close attention, ne? This is one of the…what was the term Zaraki-san used? Oh yes… "Dirty rotten no good should go off and die perverts" he's always telling you to stay away from."

The child's eyes grow slightly wider then, and looking over at the man, who's stopped talking finally, she nods. "Pervert."

The man gapes at Ayasegawa. "You're not a…"

Yumi beams. "Nope! So, as you can see, my charge and I are perfectly fine to take care of ourselves. Thank you for your offer of aid though, pervert-san." That said, he turns back to Yachiru. "One should always be polite, little one, even to those types of people who should go off and die."

Yachiru nods again. "Right." She turns towards the newcomer and waves a small hand. "Thank you, pervert-san!"

Yumi smiles. "Good girl."

The pervert glares. "Hey, I was just tryin' to offer you two some help, ya ungrateful sonofabitch. Then you gotta go'n repay my kindness by talkin' shit right to my face?"

Ayasegawa wrinkles his nose. "How crude. And in front of children at that. I'll have you know, sir," he begins, eyes glittering dangerously, "that I was not saying any such thing to your face." He gestures with his chin to his companion. "I was saying them to my young friend here." He looks the man over once more, clearly unimpressed. "Eavesdropping is really rather impolite."

Yachiru nods again. "Uncivilized."

Yumi beams at her. "Exactly."

The man growls and rolls up his sleeve. "That's it. I was just doin' my job bein' a good citizen and this is what I get in return? Fuck that, ya fruitcake, I'm kickin' your know-it-all ass."

"Someone wanna tell me what the hell's goin' on here?"

Yumichika smiles as Kenpachi and Ikkaku return from the morning's hunting expedition, each man carrying a couple of rabbits a piece. "Welcome back!" he greets happily, forgetting pervert-san's rather unimpressive presence quite quickly upon seeing his compatriots.

In the meantime, the man takes one look (way up) at Kenpachi and decides that perhaps a fight isn't what he wanted after all.

"Who's that?" Zaraki grunts, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously.

Yachiru smiles and points. "Pervert!"

Kenpachi and Ikkaku both turn to the man. "Pervert, huh?" Zaraki growls.

"Huh," Ikkaku echoes, brow twitching.

The two of them loom over the interloper, and Yumichika can't help but twitter. "Oh my." He turns to Yachiru then, and asks, solemnly, "Do you know what's coming up next, my dear?"

Yachiru giggles, eyes bright with anticipation. "Violence!"

Yumi smirks. "Good girl."

**END**


	357. Stress Relief

**357.**

**Title:** Stress Relief  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **RyuukenxIsshin  
**Word Count:** 500  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers um, for the Isshin and Ryuuken's identities, I guess.   
**Summary:** Ryuuken has a bad day. Isshin helps.  
**Dedication:** kshi- I AM BAD. --;;  
**A/N: **No words. I have no words. Just that I am weird.

* * *

Ryuuken was having a bad day.

He'd gotten to his office late because _someone_ had shut himself in the bathroom to sulk after the Quincy refused to cuddle, and the idiot had refused to come out until Ryuuken had promised a good morning kiss.

Then his secretary had called in sick last minute and he'd been stuck doing all the paperwork and taking all the calls himself.

One of his patients had thrown up on his shoes.

One of said patient's snot-nosed kids had drawn a schizophrenic looking Doraemon that took up half the white space on his wall (in black sharpie no less) while Ryuuken had been cleaning vomit from his loafers, and not long after that the air-conditioning on his floor had sputtered and died completely, sometime before lunch.

The nurse who was supposed to assist him stormed in for her shift (late) and promptly set down her letter of resignation, lamenting for a good half hour about how she'd wasted the golden age of her youth chasing after a cold-hearted bastard of a doctor who didn't even notice her existence unless it was necessary for getting him things and making him coffee.

After she'd left, he tried making himself coffee and found that he was rather bad at it.

He worked until five and when he went back out to the parking lot he noticed his car was dented. Cursing, he climbed into the vehicle and shot a dirty look to the second story window because he knew all car door damage was inevitably the fault of that fancy-pants dentist who worked in the same building, the one who was always bragging about his oversized import car from Europe.

It didn't fit in the spaces they had here. Not comfortably, anyway.

Gritting his teeth, the Quincy drove back to his house in a fury.

He decided to skip dinner altogether and called Isshin right away.

"Ryuu-chan, hello!" Kurosaki responded, sounding happy enough for Ryuuken to want to kill him a little bit.

Instead, he said, "Get over here."

"What? Now?"

"Now, idiot."

"Waaah, okay! Lemme just tell Yuzu-chan that I won't be eating dinner with them and…"

Ryuuken hung up.

Isshin arrived twenty minutes later and the moment he stepped through the door into the other doctor's house, frowned to himself at the sight that greeted him. "Aww… Ryuu-chan, you look like you had a hard day!"

The Quincy's jaw twitched.

"Ah, I know! You wanted some super special I-chin comfort love cuddles!"

Ryuuken stood and began to unknot his tie. "Take your clothes off."

Isshin blinked. "Mur?"

"I said take your clothes off, idiot."

Pause.

Isshin grinned. "Okay!"

Ryuuken eyed the eager shinigami and sighed. Taking his tie off completely, he tossed it at the excited bastard's face. "Shove that into your mouth."

"Hai!"

Moving to remove his belt, Ryuuken supposed that he could admit-- to himself and no one else of course-- that at least the idiot was good for something every now and again.

**END**


	358. Coping Mechanisms

**358.**

**Title:** Coping Mechanisms  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Mayuri  
**Word Count:** 344  
**Warning/s: **Crack. Probably OOC crack. Vague spoilers for um… Kenpachi's "secret weapon"?  
**Summary:** Kenpachi for the win.  
**Dedication:** I think this one should go out for Kenpachi fans everywhere. Just because.  
**A/N: **I don't know why this idea hit me like it did, but when I pictured how it would go in my head, it made me laugh. I think it was funnier in my head than how it turned out though. --;;

* * *

Nobody liked Kurotsuchi-taichou's long-winded talks, the ones where he blustered on and on and on about his eminence and his abilities and his breakthroughs and his blah, blah, blah.

Heck, even nice-guy Ukitake could be seen mentally rolling his eyes whenever Mayuri got on to speechifying about one of his latest findings.

All of the captains had their own ways of dealing with him though, of putting up with (or not putting up with) that awful racket that constituted a Kurotsuchi-tirade.

Yama-jii feigned senility.

Soi Fong left a kawarimi replacement clone in her place and snuck off.

Gin smiled at the bastard until _he_ got creeped out.

Unohana excused herself for a medical emergency.

Aizen had little Momo come in proclaiming she needed his help reaching a tall shelf.

Kuchiki just kept walking.

Komamura pretended to be deaf behind that giant helmet and kept walking.

Shunsui had enough sake with him that, with time, anything Kurotsuchi said eventually became interesting.

Tousen followed Komamura's lead and feigned deafness to go with the blindness so that he could keep walking.

Hitsugaya had Matsumoto come in, proclaiming that it was time for 'little taichou's' afternoon nap (even if it wasn't afternoon).

Ukitake started a self-induced coughing spell until he spit up blood and then politely excused himself to the infirmary.

He had to admit, some of those were pretty good tactics. But even still, Kenpachi thought his way was the best.

"And for another thing, you insolent boor, I could destroy you with my intellect alone, if I thought your loathsome existence warranted the effort for me to wipe you out…"

Calmly, Zaraki removed his eye patch.

And tossed it at Mayuri.

"And don't think I'll put up with your impertinence much longer. You're only so lucky that I haven't sent a chemical assassin to your chambers late at night to…Eeeeeeeeeee! GET IT OFF!"

Kenpachi grinned as the energy-sucking monster latched onto the other captain.

Heading for the door, he couldn't help but marvel at how doing that never stopped being funny.

Kurotsuchi's screams followed him out.

**END**


	359. Babysitting: Iba

**359.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Adventures in Babysitting Part 3: Iba  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yachiru, Iba, Shuuhei  
**Word Count:** 810  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.   
**Summary:** Sequel to #356 (Eleventh Division- Adventures in Babysitting Part 2: Yumichika)- Iba's turn to watch over his vice-captain. Sort-of.  
**Dedication:** Jeina- Ahhh, thank you for letting me see your wonderful art again! It's always so beautiful.  
**A/N: **Fridays are UGH days for me, so I decided to come back and write more random stuff that isn't even on my list because I just wanted to amuse myself. --;; I should do something productive, or something. le sigh

* * *

"All I'm sayin'," Iba complained, "is that someone who needs ta be babysat ain't got no right to be a vice-captain."

Shuuhei chanced a glance at said vice-captain, who was happily climbing a nearby tree in pursuit of a rather frightened looking squirrel.

"Well, at least your captain's letting you have some responsibility?" he offered, trying to find something that would comfort his best friend. "My captain has all the new recruits… mopping floors." He sighed.

Iba had to admit that the eleventh division did give a man a lot of upward mobility opportunities compared to other divisions, what with the only prerequisite to becoming a seat being "beat up the guy whose job ya want." He'd gotten all the way up to an officer position after only a month of being in the ranks.

But at the same time, the fact that seated officers had to take turns babysitting the vice-captain was a little bit bad for morale.

Mostly, he thought it was the fact that his second seat _needed_ a babysitter in the first place.

"Well, I suppose our division's got its ups and downs," Iba relented after a while. "But still…" he gestured vaguely to the little girl, who now had that frightened looking squirrel in-between her hands.

"Um…maybe we better not let her play with that," Shuuhei offered, staring. "Those things have diseases, don't they?"

Iba snorted. "Only thing that needs to be worryin' 'bout anythin' is that squirrel, you ask me."

Yachiru bounded up to the duo then, squirrel clamped firmly in her grasp. "Lookie!"

"Er, that's real nice there, fukutaichou," Iba responded evenly.

She smiled and gave it to Shuuhei. "Present for Squinty-Eyes!"

Blinking, Hisagi took it, only because he didn't know how to say "no thanks" to such an ardent declaration. He was also trying to wrap his mind around "Squinty-Eyes".

The squirrel twitched in his hold and Yachiru shot off again.

"Um…maybe we should take her away from here?" Shuuhei suggested after a moment, looking down at the poor animal resting on his palms.

"The hell with that. Last time I took her out to some place with other people around she dashed off'n I spent four hours lookin' for her. Least here ain't got nothin' that can obstruct my view of her, she decides to run off again."

"But… isn't it a little dangerous to be out in the open like this?" Shuuhei posed. 'I mean, your whole division got called out all of a sudden today because intelligence found a Hollow nest, didn't it?" Shuuhei looked around. "There could be…things on the prowl." Remembering himself then, Hisagi put the squirrel down, expecting it to run off.

It twitched some more.

He poked at it, earning a despondent "squeak," but no further movement.

Iba snorted at his friend's assessment and stretched, looking up at the sky. He was determined to at least enjoy the good weather and rare free time while he was on this ridiculous assignment. "Ain't no Hollows here, stupid. They'da already blocked this area off if there was, wouldn't they?"

"Still. It might not be safe for a little girl to just be playing around like this when at any moment a…."

Yachiru came darting back towards them again, this time with something much bigger clutched in her hands.

"Stupid-Glasses!" she cried, looking ecstatic. "Present for you!"

She thrust the still quivering Hollow at Tetsuzaemon and beamed.

Iba and Shuuhei stared.

The monster twitched.

Bled a little on the floor.

"Present!" she insisted, growing impatient when Iba didn't take it right away.

"Er…that's uh…that's real nice there, fukutaichou. Er… thanks."

He took it.

The Hollow shuddered. Rasped, "…kill…me."

Yachiru squealed happily and zoomed off again, in search of more adventures in the great outdoors.

Shuuhei and Iba looked at each other then, before turning to the twitching squirrel.

And then the twitching Hollow.

"So…" Shuuhei started, blinking. "You were um… saying something?"

"Er…" Iba stood, drawing his sword. "Well… the eleventh division has the strongest captain and vice-captain in the whole court, is what I meant to say," he amended after a moment, stabbing the shaking beast in the eye and blissfully putting it out of its misery.

He sat back down. "Even if fukutaichou needs a little lookin' after every now'n again. Er, don't mean she ain't capable at doin' her job, ya know."

"Huh," Shuuhei grunted, poking a bit at the squirrel again. "Um… that was a little scary just now."

Iba crossed his arms and turned his face up towards the sunlight, still determined to enjoy the nice weather and the free time while he could. "Yeah. Little bit."

"Imagine twenty years from now…"

"Don't," Iba interrupted, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of nice, fresh air. "Just… don't think about it."

"Huh." Pause. "So…whadya think she's gonna bring back next?"

Iba twitched.

**END**


	360. Triple Date

**360**.

**Title:** Triple Date  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, IkkakuxKira, RenjixByakuya  
**Word Count:** 537  
**Warning/s: **OOCness and um, imaginary seireitei karaoke bars. --;;  
**Summary:** Loosely related to #310 (Group Date)- Beautiful men with beautiful voices.  
**Dedication:** kshi- this is your fault. THEY SING LIKE SEX.  
**A/N: **So… Byakuya and Hisagi's seiyuu are amazing. I know a lot of seiyuu sing passably, but seriously. These two sing like sex. I nearly had a heart attack listening. I MEAN, HOLY HELL. :3

* * *

"Karaoke!" Yumichika proclaimed enthusiastically. "Let's do that tonight, ne?"

At the suggestion, Ikkaku grinned and swatted playfully at Kira's ass. "Sounds good to me."

Renji looked at his captain. "How's that sound then?"

"I don't sing," Byakuya announced. Then, "Though, I suppose I don't mind watching."

Yumi smiled. "Everyone sings!"

Renji rolled his eyes. "You just wanna make senpai sing to you again, ya shameless asshole."

The fifth chair nodded, unfazed at Renji's accusation. Mostly because it was true. "I like listening to him sing," Ayasegawa clarified, gleefully latching onto his lover's arm. "Besides, Shuuhei is _very_ good at it."

"Um…" Shuuhei blushed. "I'm not…"

"Che, he's okay, but not as good as Izuru," Ikkaku insisted, slinging his arm over the blonde's shoulder and causing him to go slightly pink.

Renji sighed and turned to Byakuya as the other two couples got into another one of their bragging rights wars, leaning over to his captain and murmuring, "S'okay taichou, they won't let me sing on account of me bein' so bad, so we can be musically un-inclined together, huh?"

Byakuya frowned. "You _do_ sing horribly."

Renji winced, sheepish. "Yeah well… how 'bout you? Bad too, or just never tried?"

"Singing is for street performers and desperate whores," Byakuya told him, voice quiet. "As I was told."

"As you were told, huh?" Renji murmured, thoughtful. "Well uh… that ain't exactly right, you know." Pause. "Say… you could give it a try? Just to see?"

Byakuya eyed the younger man, and couldn't help but be taken in by how eager he seemed at the thought. "Why?"

Renji looked away then, face turning a bit red at the inquiry. "Uh, 's just… well, I thought it wouldn't be so bad to get to hear ya do it, is all," he admitted. "No matter how ya sound," he added, quickly.

The nobleman turned wry. "A lover's pride?"

Renji chuckled back, still slightly pink-faced. "Yeah. Somethin' like that."

Byakuya sighed. Stood up a little straighter and moved past of his vice-captain. "Very well."

The redhead stared after him. "What… really?"

"I said I would, didn't I?"

The younger man grinned and hurried to catch up.

Later, as everyone witnessed for the first time, Kuchiki Byakuya's singing voice, they couldn't help but stare in awe.

"Wow," Yumichika marveled, hand fluttering just over his chest as he listened. "He really is good at everything."

"Mmmm," Kira agreed absently, cheeks vaguely flushed.

Shuuhei and Ikkaku might have been jealous, except that their reactions weren't all that far off from those of their lovers.

At the impressed expressions of his cohorts, Renji couldn't help but spread languidly into his seat and grin to himself, broadly. "Easy there boys," he warned, teasing. "That one's mine."

Sipping his drink, the redhead didn't even try to wipe the smug expression off of his face.

Truth be told, it was nice to finally win one.

Especially against the likes of Shuuhei and Yumichika, the bastards.

Then, out of nowhere, came: "Well, I suppose it's only fair that he sings so well. _Someone_ has to balance you out, considering how horrible you are, Renji."

Dammit.

The redhead sighed.

Sometimes, for just a split second, he forgot about Yumichika.

It never lasted.

**END**


	361. With this Ring

**361.**

**Title:** With this Ring  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou, Kuukaku  
**Word Count:** 667  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Shiba back story, but nothing big I suppose.   
**Summary:** Sequel to #353 (Niisan's Gift)- Ganjyu takes the lessons he learned to heart.  
**Dedication:** jen- hope your stomach is feeling better after last night! Also, sophiap, because this should have been her bleachexchange extra, but I started it and got another idea all of a sudden, so it might be a spell before she gets to see it. --;;  
**A/N: **I should be doing homework. But I'm tired and all I really feel like doing is writing. --;; I'm so screwed for class.

* * *

He remembers how his niisan had told him, a long time ago, how it was possible to just bring another person into their family, just like that. Miyako-neesan had clarified all the other things that were necessary of course, but Ganjyu's sure—pretty sure anyway—that he's already taken care of those other parts. First, before anything else, like neesan had told him those many years ago.

Now it's just that last part he has to take care of.

His palms are sweaty and Hanatarou notices right away that something's off about the larger man today, though the little shinigami only furrows his brow in concern and doesn't push the subject right off, because he knows that Ganjyu hates that.

Knows that the other man will work the parts out he can by himself and come to Hanatarou about it after that if he still needs it, because that's how Ganjyu is.

Hanatarou knows that's the way Ganjyu works.

Hanatarou knows a lot of things about him, he thinks. Everything important anyway, and that's part of the reason why he knows those other things Miyako-neesan had always been telling him about are already taken care of.

It's just that other thing left, now.

Niisan's thing.

There's a ring box burning a hole in Ganjyu's pocket and a question he's going to ask tonight that will change their family again—if everything goes well, that is— and he can't help but be a little bit nervous about what it all means.

It's his turn to bring in someone new (admittedly a brother this time), and he hopes his neesan doesn't mind, that she'll take to Hanatarou joining the family like she took to Miyako-neesan.

Hanatarou's nothing like Miyako, nothing like Kaien, really, but he's someone important to Ganjyu who he wants in his life for however long it may last. Maybe he's being a little bit more selfish than his niisan was, because he doesn't think Hanatarou can fill one of the roles for Kuukaku that's been taken away from her, but Ganjyu thinks that making a completely new one won't be all that bad either.

A new little brother, another one who can be a part of their little family and hopefully, make it even brighter just by being there. Like Miyako-neesan did, even in her short time with them.

Sheepishly, Ganjyu realizes he's a bit ahead of himself.

The box is still in his pocket after all.

"Hey…Hana," he starts, licking his lips anxiously.

"Yes?" Hanatarou responds, reading into Ganjyu's nervousness and feeling it a little as well. "Is…um, is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Ganjyu assures him, quickly. Maybe a little too quickly, because Hanatarou blinks at him and grows just that much more worried.

"G-ganyju?"

"Nothing's wrong, really," he repeats, fumbling with his pocket and managing (on the third try) to take the box out. He clasps it in his palm so that the other boy can't see it, not right off. "Um…I uh…I got somethin' to ask you," he starts, trying to keep his voice level.

It doesn't work so well. "Are you okay? You look pale…" Hanatarou fusses, moving forward to touch the larger man's face, to check for some sort of illness.

Ganjyu takes a step back, out of reach, because he knows if Hanatarou touches him right now he won't get to say what he needs to say. "Uh…just uh, just hold on, a sec, now," he starts. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Uh… don't freak out just yet, okay?"

Hanatarou swallows. "Just…yet?"

"Well, don't freak out at all," Ganjyu corrects, feeling stupid. "Um… here…" he opens up his fist then, and the box is sitting there, looking great even though his hands are sweaty and he's an awkward, muttering idiot.

Yamada's eyes go wide. "G-ganjyu…that's…that's a…"

"Don't freak out!" Ganjyu says, quickly, locking his gaze with Hanatarou's. "Don't freak out, okay? Just um… just…" Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Ganjyu feels himself get on his knees. He swallows. "Just….say yes?"

**END**


	362. Garden of Everything

**362.**

**Title:** Garden of Everything  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 789  
**Warning/s: **Um, mansex references, but no spoilers that I can think of. ;;  
**Summary:** Shuuhei the gardener.  
**Dedication:** jenkat- one of her bleachexchange requests! Now I just need to do a couple more.  
**A/N: **Alright, the theme/request was: _"A quiet, moonlit night on the back porch."_

_

* * *

_

Also, I'm incorporating your IchixRuki theme for you (sort of) because you didn't get it. XD

Yumichika likes beautiful things, which is probably the only reason why Shuuhei maintains a garden for the two of them at all.

His lover (naturally) refuses to get dirt under his fingernails (though admittedly, the fifth chair doesn't mind pruning every once in a while). But as a result, heavy weeding and planting are always Shuuhei's departments in their little joint endeavor, and sometimes he wonders why he even goes through the trouble in the first place.

Yumichika loves the garden.

Shuuhei keeps it beautiful at all costs, and a part of him knows that the only reason there's a nice garden in their backyard at all is because Yumi likes to sit and look at it sometimes, sipping a cup of tea and admiring Hisagi's handiwork after dinner.

Part of Shuuhei knows he does it because he likes to see that smile, calm and serene and more beautiful than the garden he spends hours a week tending to.

His reward.

Well, one of them.

Feeling a lopsided smile tug at the corner of his lips Shuuhei takes a seat next to the fifth chair, waiting only a second before pulling the other man into his lap and resting his cheek on Yumi's shoulder.

"Hey there," he murmurs. "That smile for me?"

Yumi settles himself more comfortably against his human chair. "It usually is."

"Good."

They stare out across the yard then, quiet descending over the two of them as they sit there in the evening moonlight, neither of them feeling as if they need to break it.

It's not uncomfortable at all.

"It's really lovely," Yumi breathes after a while, intertwining his fingers with Shuuhei's and stroking his thumb over the back of his lover's hand.

"It better be," the vice-captain snorts, not unkindly. "I'm expecting a good reward though," he starts, "for the extra two hours of weeding I put in on my day off."

Yumi giggles and wiggles back into Shuuhei's lap mischievously. "My, fukutaichou, how… licentious… of you. I'm surprised."

Shuuhei groans at the teasing and nips at the fifth chair's neck. "You shouldn't be," he murmurs, before kissing the spot he'd bitten with infinite tenderness. "You made me this way."

Laughing, the fifth chair turns then, settling so they're facing each other. "I have created a monster," he jokes, leaning forward a breath. "I suppose I should take responsibility for my actions."

"Yes, please," Shuuhei seconds, growing impatient as he cups the back of the other man's head and pushes their lips together.

"Mmm, we should move to the bedroom," Yumi whispers when they break apart, very smoothly swatting Shuuhei's hand out from the inside of his shirt.

"Screw that," Shuuhei protests, wrapping an arm around the fifth chair and standing.

Yumi squeals as he's suddenly hefted into the air, the vice-captain supporting his weight in the crook of one strong arm. "Shuuhei!"

"I worked hard today," Hisagi muses, aloud. "I think we should at least stay to enjoy the view, hmmm?" he poses, striding out towards the garden before Yumichika can give his opinion on the matter.

"It's dark!" Yumi protests, though he wraps his arms around the other man's throat anyway.

"There's enough light," Shuuhei assures him, eyes sliding towards the half-moon sitting low in the sky as he lies Yumichika down on the grass.

Yumi continues his objections, just for argument's sake. "It's dirty!" His hands are already reaching into Hisagi's pants.

"It's only going to get dirtier, sweetheart," Shuuhei promises, grinning as he leans in to kiss the fifth chair's breath away. "Besides, I worked hard," he reminds his lover when they pull apart. "So we'd best just enjoy it, hmmm?"

"It's a lovely garden," Yumi concedes.

"Thank you. Now shut up and get your pants off."

Yumi rolls his eyes, but complies.

Later, when they're curled up on the grass together, Yumichika sighs, happily exhausted (and only a little bit dirty, thankfully). "It really is a lovely garden," he murmurs, head tucked firmly under Shuuhei's chin.

"Mmmm," Shuuhei responds, lazily stroking the smaller man's back.

"We should think about putting in a pond."

"Mmmm…" Pause. "Wait, what?"

Yumi smiles and yawns. "Thank you, sweetie. I think it will look magnificent." He places a kiss on the underside of Hisagi's jaw before declaring, "Good night."

"Wait…but…Yumi? Oi…Yumi?"

His lover's soft snores are his only answer, and sighing, Shuuhei stands, moving to carry Yumichika inside.

He pauses at the door and looks out over the garden, speculatively.

The bastard is right (as usual).

It really would look nice with a pond.

Tucking Yumi into bed and crawling in beside him, Shuuhei sighs in a self-defeated manner and supposes he'll start looking into pond building tomorrow.

Maybe they can have koi too.

**END**


	363. New Blood

**363.**

**Title:** New Blood  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Byakuya, Renji (kind of maybe implied shippyness? But not really… o.o)  
**Word Count:** 633  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.   
**Summary:** Pre-series, Byakuya speculates on what it is about Renji that he hates a little bit too much.  
**Dedication:** jenkat- Your other bleachexchange that you didn't get! I was surprised at this one, really. XD  
**A/N: **The request was: _"Secret admirer."_

_

* * *

_

Kuchiki Byakuya has been taught to despise everything that Abarai Renji is.

Loudness is uncouth, raucousness unacceptable. Gentlemen can express themselves calmly and clearly. They need not raise their volume to get a point across and they respect that the people around them have a right to peace.

Rude language is the sign of a slow intellect. Gentlemen can communicate dissatisfaction or annoyance without the use of expletives or truncated words. They can very elegantly convey emotion with diplomacy and without vulgarity. Curse words are for fools with limited vocabularies who, growing up, had parents who didn't care about them.

Tardiness and slovenliness are as bad as dirty words. Being incapable of promptness suggests disrespect. Being messy and late at the same time conveys absolute contempt or disregard for the person whom one is meeting.

Rules are the cornerstone of civilized society. Those who constantly break them or feel that they are entitled to do as such deserve no less than incarceration and the gravest form of capitol punishment. Doubting or questioning the law is just as bad, for it leads to instability and the eventual collapse of all social order.

So Kuchiki Byakuya has been taught.

Correspondingly, he feels that given what he knows about his vice-captain after the few short weeks they have been together, it is a simple fact of nature that Abarai Renji is a man who should have every bit of his absolute most vehement contempt.

He thinks Renji is magnificent.

Polite society dictates that he never voice that opinion out loud, but he humors himself every now and again, and lets himself think as such—unabashedly even— for just a little while.

Renji is magnificent as he shouts and whoops and curses in the midst of battle, proud and strong and somehow, wonderful with blood splattered on his cheek and his hair flowing every which way, sweat beaded on his brow.

"Sorry for bein' late, taichou!" Abarai apologizes, swinging his zanpakutou and deflecting the path of several projectile creatures the line of Hollows had launched in their direction.

Byakuya eyes him and says nothing.

Sheepish, the vice captain pauses briefly to tie his hair, kicking at enemies instead of killing them properly, as protocol dictates he should prioritize above all else. "Ate too much last night, put me in a bit of a food coma, ya know… woke up a little later'n I'd meant ta."

He grins then, and charges ahead of his captain. "I'll make it up to ya though, taichou, promise!" he shouts back, eyes sharp and body keen for action. "Watch this!"

The loudmouthed idiot isn't supposed to just run off like that, isn't supposed to make his own orders when his commanding officer is there to do so for him.

He breaks a hole in the line of encroaching Hollows and whooping victoriously, directs his corps in, full speed. "We got 'em now, boys!"

It's all very wrong, and Byakuya knows he will have to discipline that new young vice-captain of his soon, teach him that those eleventh division tactics won't cut it here in the sixth.

Kuchiki Byakuya is not as lenient as Zaraki Kenpachi. Nor is he as forgiving as Aizen Sousuke.

Renji will be severely punished for his insubordination once this battle is won. Soon.

But until then, Byakuya lets himself step back a little and admire that smile, that energy and that exuberance.

He lets himself for a moment, enjoy in this young man, everything that he is not.

Everything he has been taught to despise.

It's odd that he finds it so strangely magnificent.

He advances his line with a frown and hopes this odd bout of admiration is nothing but a passing phenomenon.

He's supposed to hate everything about Abarai Renji, after all.

As he's been taught.

**END**


	364. Best Laid Plans

**364.**

**Title:** Best Laid Plans  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kira+Hinamori  
**Word Count:** 516  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Kira does his best for Hinamori.  
**Dedication:** pyrefly- haha it was hard to choose from your prompts because while I would have pounced on the Shuumi, I realized you wanted… other people's takes on it. ;; So. This is me trying something new for you, hope it's…okay. Somehow. It figures the only other pairing out of the group I felt like I could write was…taken. --;;  
**A/N: **The prompt was: _"Something cute and fluffy. Prefer current over Academy years. Perhaps your take on what Kira and Hinamori are going through while Hitsugaya, Renji & co. are in the human world."_ Um… I think I got at least half of that. --;;

* * *

He visits her every day with a smile and a small basket of fruit, asking towards her health while filling her in on all the latest developments of seireitei's news and gossip.

She smiles at him and laughs sometimes. She graciously accepts the fruit and talks to him like there isn't a million miles in between them anymore, like they're just two classmates catching up on old times.

It's in those moments of looking into those young, sweet eyes that he remembers liking so much, when he finds himself wondering--if he'd become the sort of man he'd planned on being-- whether or not she would have chosen him.

He's become something far different from what he'd wanted to of course, so the question is obsolete in terms of possibility. He knows it. But he still wonders sometimes, whether or not he ever could have won her, if there had been any sort of chance he could have had at beating Aizen-taichou out for her affection.

If he'd become the man he'd wanted to.

For the longest time, she'd been the girl he liked best out of all the other girls. Cute and sweet and smart and strong.

He still likes her very much, really.

But all the same, he'd never gotten to become the sort of man he'd planned on being, and that has probably made all the difference in the world.

That's probably why he never could have competed with Aizen-taichou, ever.

He's far too removed from the person he'd really wanted to be.

And she's very different now too, from the way he remembers her. She's still cute and sweet and smart and strong of course, but there's something else there now too. Now, now she's sad too, bitter too, suddenly lost and far older looking than she should have been.

He supposes, that she hasn't quite turned out into the girl she'd wanted to become either.

They're both very different. Miles away from the people they'd envisioned themselves eventually turning into, back when they were fresh out of academy and full of their youthful ideals.

Now he comes to see her every single day, sitting at her bedside and telling her all the latest news in seireitei. He peels her fruit and smiles and hopes that he can help a little, with what she's going through. She sits in her bed and does her best to smile back, looking out the window when there's silence between them and thinking whatever sad, lost thoughts it is she's thinking.

He's there for her every step of the way.

And while he hasn't quite turned out to be the person he'd planned on being, while he's still a long way off, he's at her side. Every day he's there, with a smile and an apple and the funniest story he can remember hearing today.

It's all he can think of to do.

Maybe one day, he'll be able to be the man he wanted to be for her.

But for now, he'll just do what he can.

He'll do his best.

He peels her fruit.

**END**


	365. Simple Forgiveness

**365.**

**Title:** Simple Forgiveness  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Byakuya, Kuukaku, Yoruichi  
**Word Count:** 994  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Sequel to #341 ("A Simple Revival")- Byakuya has always admired the Shiba.  
**Dedication:** fanartist- haha your drawings feed me, I suppose. I loved the one for "A Simple Revival," so thank you!  
**A/N: **I've been told I focus on thugs too much. Well… there's only a couple in here. :P I'm weaning myself slowly? --;;

* * *

He's surprised when a bottle of sake is set down in front of him, and looking up, he can't quite hide his reaction when he sees Kuukaku there, grinning down at him. 

"Yo, Bochamma," she greets, winking before plopping down at his side. "How ya feelin'?"

"Fine," he says, guardedly. Then, "Thank you, Kuukaku."

"No problem." She forgoes pouring and just takes a swig out of the jar, before passing it to the shinigami beside her.

He doesn't take it.

There's silence for a moment, and Byakuya doesn't know what to do because his childhood friend is sitting beside him once more, even after all the destruction his family had done to hers.

For the longest time, she'd believed that his sister was the reason behind her older brother's death.

And Byakuya had nearly killed her last remaining brother, not a week ago.

He feels no animosity from her.

Only from himself, towards himself.

His brow furrows and he doesn't know what to say.

She says it for him. "The big idiot is fine," she sighs, like it's the most normal thing in the world. "You held back, Kuchiki-sama."

He looks at her, and for a moment, there is something like unguarded regret in his eyes. "I would have killed him," he admits, part of him wanting her to take that and hate him for it, if only to distract him from the deep feeling of self-loathing he experiences whenever he remembers Shiba Ganjyu's face, whenever he goes back to that moment in his head and recalls how the young man had looked at that moment, the two of them standing and staring at each other from across the bridge.

"What stopped you?" she asks, knocking back another swig of sake. "Loyalty?"

"No," he replies, honest. "I would have killed him without a second thought, even knowing who he was."

"But you didn't."

She says it like it's that simple. Like she doesn't blame him at all for ignoring familial and friendship bonds in the face of his blind, misguided justice.

He can't let himself think it's that easy.

He remembers Shiba Ganjyu's face on the bridge as the young man had placed himself in front of the sixth division captain, afraid and fighting for a cause he no longer believed in, but doing it anyway because he was the only thing standing between someone important to him and certain death.

Byakuya thinks a part of him, looking into Shiba Ganjyu's eyes at that moment, had longed for that sort of courage for himself.

Because Byakuya also hates himself a little bit, for not being able to do for Rukia, what Ganjyu could so easily did for Yamada in the split second it took for Byakuya to take one more step forward.

Kuchiki Byakuya has always admired the Shiba. Every single one of them. They all have something he fears he will never be able to find within himself, no matter how hard he searches.

"You raised your brother well," he tells Kuukaku, taking the sake finally and sipping at it.

"Yeah well, it wasn't easy," she admits. "He ain't no genius."

"He's very courageous."

She grins. "That might be attributed to the fact that he ain't so smart, ya know."

He feels the corner of his mouth turn up at her easy humor, the one he remembers being much more frank than any other in his childhood. He always appreciated as well, the honesty of the Shiba. A rare trait for one of the four great noble families.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes suddenly, not quite sure for what.

"Not to me you're not," she tells him, snatching the sake jug out of his fingers. "You're not sorry one bit."

He winces.

Her expression softens. "Tch. Still just a brat I see. Try forgivin' _yourself_ for once, huh?" the middle sibling snorts. "And get your damn poker face on will ya? Or this is gonna be like candy from a baby."

He blinks. "What is?"

She winks at him then, and reaches into the front of her top.

He averts his eyes, politely.

"There!" she announces, finding what she was looking for. She slaps down a deck of cards between them. "You know the game, I believe."

He looks at her, vaguely bewildered, and wonders what it is about the Shiba that makes forgiveness so simple. "I…"

"Don't worry, I know it's too damn easy with just two people," she tells him, waving dismissively. "But shouldn't be long before…"

"Yo!"

He turns at the sound of Yoruichi's voice as she appears beside him suddenly, grinning and with yet more sake in her hands.

"Yo," Kuukaku greets in response, dealing her in.

As well as two other places.

Byakuya, genuinely confused, asks, "Are we expecting…"

"It's for those two missing idiots," Kuukaku clarifies.

"And for a little challenge, Byaku-bo… because we all know how good that poker face of yours is," Yoruichi finishes, taking a seat and a swig of whisky. She grins. "Say, we're old enough now we've got some actual cash on us, huh?"

"Yeah?" Kuukaku asks, eyeing her old friend. "Whaddya got in mind?"

Yoruichi picks her cards up and winks at Byakuya. "Loser buys dinner. How's that sound, Bochamma?"

He puts on his poker face and picks up his own cards. "That's fair."

At that, the two women look at each other and burst out laughing. "Ain't changed a bit, has he?"

"Nope! Maybe a bit more handsome though."

Despite the perfection of his stone-faced technique, some things will never fail to make his cheeks turn pink.

He blushes, and Yoruichi and Kuukaku fall over snickering at him.

As they laugh shamelessly at his expense, he sighs internally and looks at the two untouched hands of cards on the ground between them.

He can't help but wish a little, that those two loudmouths were here to help him out.

Because Kuukaku and Yoruichi together are still as frightening as he remembers.

**END**


	366. Babysitting: Renji

**366.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Adventures in Babysitting Part 4: Renji  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Renji, Iba, Ikkaku, Yumichika, Yachiru  
**Word Count:** 836  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers of any importance.  
**Summary:** Sequel to #359 ("Eleventh Division- Adventures in Babysitting Part 3: Iba")- Renji's turn to baby sit doesn't go as planned.  
**Dedication:** JaB- YOUR IKKAKU BURNS WITH MANLY LOVE.  
**A/N: **Yeah, still writing thugs. Guess I can't help it. --;;

* * *

He runs into the bar he knows they're at, half out of his mind.

"I lost her!" he yells, bursting into the room and disrupting a perfectly good brawl with his hysteria. "I fuckin' lost her!"

Iba pauses, his fist inches from someone's face. "Ya _what_?"

"I said, I lost fukutaichou!" Renji repeats, looking as though ten years of his life are being shaved off of him as he stands there panicking.

Ikkaku, slamming his opponent's head into a table repeatedly, sighs. "Well good job there, Abarai. What the hell happened?"

"He probably got distracted by something shiny," Yumichika poses snootily, sitting cross-legged atop his fallen adversary and resting his elbow on the unconscious man's head.

"Seriously man," Ikkaku chides, letting his opponent go and shaking his head. "I knew you was dumb, but I didn't think you was irresponsible too. What's taichou gonna say when he gets back tomorrow mornin' and he don't see her there?"

Yumichika pouts. "He'll be absolutely heartbroken."

"And make us run suicides," Iba adds, forgoing the punch to his quivering opponent and kneeing him in the stomach instead. "I hate suicides."

Renji swallows. "You uh… you guys really think we won't be able ta find her 'fore then?" he asks, wary. "I mean um…if all of us…I mean, that is… if you guys'd help me out, I'm sure we'd be able ta find her. Taichou don't gotta know nothin'."

Ikkaku snorts. "We're kinda busy here, asshole, in case ya didn't notice." He emphasizes his point by digging his sandal into his moaning opponent's kidneys. "We can't just run off every time you go'n make a damned idiotic rookie mistake."

"Really," Yumi agrees, smiling charmingly and motioning to the barkeep for another drink.

"I am so fuckin' disappointed in you, Abarai, really," Iba adds, to rub salt in the wound.

Renji stares at them. "But…"

"You'd better go find her, newbie, or there'll be hell to pay. And not just from taichou," Ikkaku prompts, eyes sliding towards the door. "She moves fast too, could be miles gone if you don't start runnin'."

Renji glares. "Aw c'mon, assholes, just gimme a hand here, will ya? You're done fightin' anyway!"

Iba snorts. "Tch… you know that's against the rules. Seated officers take turns babysittin' fukutaichou when taichou's gotta go. We've all done our fair share. Just 'cuz you're the noob don't mean we're gonna take pity on ya and hold yer hand the whole damn way."

"'S right," Ikkaku chimes in, grabbing his drink from the table and sloshing a good half of it down. "Ain't no pansies here in the eleventh, who need their business taken care of _for _'em. We don't operate like that."

Yumichika twitters. "Well maybe Renji-kun just isn't cut out for toughing it with the likes of us, hmm? Did you two ever think of that? We have to take into account that _some_ people just don't have what it takes to be strong."

The redhead fumes. "Fine. Forget it, assholes, I'm gonna find her myself. Che. How hard can it be, right? Fuckin'…"

They watch him until he's out the door, and then burst out laughing all at once.

"Oh man, memories," Iba grins, leaning up against the bar. "Barkeep! Beer!"

"Ah, yes sir!"

Ikkaku, snickering, looks up into the rafters of the building. "Oi…Yachiru. Ya can come down now, he's gone."

"Waaaa, really?" the little girl asks, peeking out from around a thick beam. "Stripey-head really is no good at this game," she giggles, bounding down from her vantage point to rest on Ikkaku's shoulders.

"Maybe you're just a real good hider," the bald death god suggests with a fond smile. "Oi, Barkeep! Cup of warm milk please!"

"O-of course, sir!"

Yachiru giggles. "I am the world's bestest hider ever!"

"Bestest isn't a word, dear," Yumichika corrects. "It's just best." Standing, the pretty shinigami plucks her off of Ikkaku's shoulder and sits her down properly at one of the few remaining upright tables as Iba brings over his beer and Yachiru's warm milk.

Ikkaku tucks a napkin into the front of her uniform and the three of them take seats around her.

"Drink it all now, ya hear? Growin' girls need their calcium," Iba urges.

"But don't be messy," Yumichika reminds her.

"Ahhh, lemme make sure it ain't too hot," Ikkaku adds, taking the mug in his hands.

After a while, as Yachiru sips her perfect-temperature beverage, the eleventh division shinigami all sigh and relax a little.

"Did you have fun with Abarai-kun this afternoon, fukutaichou?" Yumichika asks, the fifth chair winding down happily from his fighting-high.

"Yup!" Yachiru responds, before turning to Ikkaku briefly so he can wipe her mouth for her. "Hide and seek was the bestest…er… best suggestion you ever gave me, Yumi!"

Yumichika's eyes glitter. "Well, I just _knew_ Abarai-kun would like it too, you see. It's very important to be courteous to everyone with this sort of thing, after all."

Ikkaku and Iba grin, toasting their mugs at that. "Here, here."

**END**


	367. With Time

**367.**

**Title:** With Time  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **vaguely, sort-of Histsugaya+Matsumoto ish.  
**Word Count:** 676  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Hitsugaya is young.  
**Dedication:** Urm… how about everyone out there writing HitsuxMatsu lately? As thanks for buoying me.  
**A/N: **Mostly because it's just been a while. XD Though I'm wary of the title because I'm getting to the point where I don't' remember the titles of all the other drabbles and I might start doubling up or something, given my limited um, vocabulary. So if there was already a drabble with this title, well. Someone let me know? ;; Um. Also, I don't know if this makes a lick of sense. --;;

* * *

He may be young and inexperienced in these sorts of things, but he knows enough, he thinks, to know when she is sad, even when she insists on putting a strong face forward and act like nothing is wrong at all.

He's still just a kid really, but he's known her long enough that he can tell when she's thinking about that guy, that friend of hers who abandoned her, who betrayed them all.

His vice-captain misses the man she grew up with, her childhood companion who she watched grow stronger, day after day for a long time. The one who she stood next to for many, many years.

Hitsugaya is young, so he doesn't have the same frame of reference she does when they talk about what that means, those long years at Ichimaru's side. He's known Hinamori for most of his life, and the connection he feels with her, the friendship he feels towards her, is a very big part of him, and so he understands at least, that part of it.

But he's much younger than Rangiku, so he can only imagine what it was like to be with Gin for so long, for longer than he's even been alive.

He wonders if her pain is proportional to that, if it's even greater for her, having lost Gin in such a way, after all those years together. Far longer than he or Hinamori have known one another.

He can't wrap his mind around it completely, but he takes it as a cue, as a sign of his responsibilities in the years to come.

He'll grow up with that time, and if he can keep it like this, Matsumoto will be at his side the whole way. Maybe then, after that period spent growing up next to her, he'll be able to realize the fullness of what it is she's feeling now, after he experiences for himself, what it's like to have a connection with another person for that long.

It's both frightening and exciting, and as he looks at her and the sadness in her eyes when she thinks of Gin, he tells himself that he'll make it different. He doesn't know much about the other stuff, but he'll make it different for her the second time around.

He doesn't know what he wants to become in the future or what the years have in store for him. He doesn't know if he'll learn to be stern and admirable like Kuchiki-taichou or well-liked and charming like Kyouraku-taichou. And he's not sure if he can always be as honorable as Komamura-taichou, or as calm as Unohana-taichou, or as resourceful (if creepy) as Kurotsuchi-taichou. He's pretty certain he won't be able to have as much fun with life as Zaraki-taichou, and he's not sure really, if he wants to in the long run. He admires Soi Fong-taichou's determination and Yamamoto-soutaichou's wisdom, and he thinks maybe it would be nice to be as friendly as Ukitake-taichou one day, though his patience isn't anywhere near the thirteenth division captain's.

There are a lot of possibilities for him, because he is young, and he knows this. He tries not to think too much about it right now though, because in the end he can only be Hitsugaya-taichou and no one else.

The only thing he does know for certain is that he wants to grow into a man who Matsumoto can stand beside for many, many years.

He wants to be someone who can replace that sadness in her eyes with something new.

It won't happen all at once right away, he knows that. But day by day, he'll be able to take a little bit of that sadness from her he thinks. And he'll do it for however long it takes as he growing up there beside her through the years.

He can't make her happy right away, because he knows it's not that easy.

So all he can be is patient for now.

Because if it's time, he's got plenty of it.

He's young, after all.

**END**


	368. Patience

**368.**

**Title:** Patience   
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake   
**Word Count:** 237  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Kyouraku waits for Ukitake.  
**Dedication:** My sense of memory has been shot to hell lately, so I don't know if I've responded in thanks for your fic, kouriarashi. But if I haven't, this is for you. If I have, well, this is for you again anyway. XD  
**A/N: **I just felt silly. Haha and trying to get over my unproductive feeling as of late, as school eats my brains. --;; I will get back to writing stuff on my check list once I don't feel too dead. Until then, more pointless drabbleage abounds, I suppose. O.o

* * *

He grins.

Ukitake ignores him.

He starts humming then, softly in the back of his throat. He's unperturbed by Jyuushirou's coldness.

The other captain sighs and concentrates more intensely on his paperwork, brow furrowing stubbornly.

Kyouraku begins to gently tap his fingers on the floor, in time with the beat of the song in his heart.

Ukitake presses harder on his brush in an attempt to drown out the noise with some of his own.

Shunsui's eyes glimmer then, and he doesn't take them off the white-haired man for even a second. He drinks the sight of Jyuushirou in.

Ukitake doesn't have to look up from his documents to know which expression is on his old friend's face right now. He feels himself blushing.

At that telling sign, Shunsui shifts, anticipatorily.

Three…

Two…

One…

Kyouraku stands up just as Ukitake puts his brush down, the thirteenth division captain looking plainly exasperated, but thankfully, not irate.

"Fine," Jyuushirou murmurs, standing up as well. He throws his arms in the air resignedly. "Fine. You win."

Shunsui grins at the declaration of his victory. "Yay!" And reaching out, he takes the other man's hand in his own, tugging him to the side of the desk and towards the door. "It's a lovely day for a picnic, Jyuu-chan."

Ukitake sighs, though there is a small upward turning at the corner of his lips anyway. Bemused, he says, "I suppose it is."

**END**


	369. The Perfect Gift

**369.**

**Title:** The Perfect Gift  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 806  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** On their Anniversary, Shuuhei gets the perfect present.  
**Dedication:** kshi for the idea, and chisame, finnemon, and yumeiro for letting me stalk like a rabid fangirl.  
**A/N: **Yeah, I know. It's the '69' that does this to me. XD I just felt pervy, what can I say? XD

* * *

On their anniversary they both take the day off from work to celebrate it together, the two of them getting up late and having breakfast in bed, followed by dessert in bed, followed by a quick rest to regain their breath, followed by a walk in the park and several other things Shuuhei has specially planned.

They spend the day clothes shopping in the textiles district, have a picnic lunch by the riverside, and lounge lazily in the afternoon sun afterwards, bird-watching as Shuuhei assures Yumichika that he's much prettier than any of the other feathered creatures fluttering about today or ever.

Come evening time he sweeps Yumi away to that obscenely expensive restaurant the fifth chair likes, the one that doesn't have a menu because for the cost, you'd better get anything and everything you want. Yumi is delighted; Shuuhei is glad he's been specially saving for this for six months.

When they get back home it's early in the night yet, and Yumichika is feeling amorous, snuggled up against the vice-captain's side and glowing content. It makes Shuuhei's heart flutter in his chest just the same as it did on those first few dates, except this time he's not self-conscious about draping an arm around the other man's waist and liking the perfect fit they've got going on, Yumi leaning against his shoulder as they walk.

The minute they're through the door he closes it behind them and spins Yumi back into it, kissing him until the both of them can't breathe without panting.

"I _knew_ you had an ulterior motive to today," Yumi murmurs, teasingly. "You're such a dog."

"Arf," Shuuhei responds absently, too busy to be intelligent as he works on the collar of the other man's Chinese shirt, undoing the first two buttons and biting the skin there as he reveals it.

"Aah, sweetie, stop for a second," Yumi protests, squirming back against the door.

"Mmmm," Shuuhei grunts again, not hearing a word.

Rolling his eyes, Yumi thwaps him atop the head, sharp enough to get his attention.

"Ow. What's wrong?"

"I have something for you," Yumichika announces, still wiggling to get out from between the door and his lover.

"I know you do, now lemme finish unwrapping it, will ya?"

The joke falls flat because Yumichika is looking at him appraisingly then, and Shuuhei knows if he wants to get laid at all tonight he'd better start behaving. Sighing, he steps backwards and lets Yumi come forward from the entryway.

"Thank you."

Humming, Yumi heads towards the bedroom.

Grinning, Shuuhei watches him from behind, following appreciatively.

The fifth chair fusses around their room for a moment before getting on his hands and knees.

Shuuhei blinks. This looks good for him.

Except the smaller man is reaching under the bed then, and not inviting Hisagi to join him there on the ground. He stands up a second later, with a brightly wrapped package in his arms.

Shuuhei blinks.

Yumi thrusts it at him. "Happy Anniversary!"

The shape changes in Shuuhei's hands as he takes it. "Squishy?" he murmurs, befuddled.

"Open it," Yumi instructs, sparkling.

The vice-captain does as he's told and neatly undoes the wrapping (Yumichika hates things to be done carelessly after all), finding himself in possession of possibly, the world's softest squishy pillow. "Pillow?" he asks, looking at Yumichika for some sort of explanation.

Beaming, the fifth chair takes a seat on the bed, looking up at his lover. "For those nights when you're dreaming about boobies," he says with a snicker. "So you'll stop trying to squish my head when we're sleeping."

Shuuhei stares. "I…" he trails off, blushing. "Erm. Thanks."

Yumichika twitters at the dumbfounded expression on the other man's face and lies back down on the bed, propped up on his elbows as he looks at his Hisagi. "Honestly. My _head_? That's a bit ambitious, even for you," he chastises, though not without some humor.

Shuuhei turns redder.

"Well, fukutaichou? Are you going to come and unwrap the rest of your gift or what?" Yumi asks after a moment of the vice-captain standing there with the ridiculous pillow in his hands.

Hisagi takes in the inviting look on the other man's face and promptly discards the pillow. "Smug bastard," he mutters, cheeks still pink as he climbs atop Yumi and kisses him senseless.

When they break apart, Yumi pauses. Batting his lashes, he asks, "Ne… where's _my_ present?"

Shuuhei rolls his eyes and grabs the tease, flipping him so that his stomach hits the mattress. "Just for that, we're doing this my way," he grunts.

Yumi laughs, archly, and wiggles his ass back against Hisagi. "Ah. _There_ it is."

"Perv," the vice-captain grunts, not unappreciatively.

"_I'm_ not the one who dreams about boobs," Yumi rejoins, just as delightedly.

"Aw, shaddup."

"_Shut_ me up."

"Mmm… yes sir."

**END**


	370. Sunday Dumplings

**370.**

**Title:** Sunday Dumplings  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakkuxKira, mentioned GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 867  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers by association for the SS arc?   
**Summary:** Kira likes Sundays best.  
**Dedication:** swinku- because I feel like I haven't written enough for Ikkira lately. ;;  
**A/N: **FLUFF! So don't expect any great narrative deductions or anything. This is really quite silly and lame and just…fluff. --;;

* * *

Sunday nights are Kira's favorite nights out of the whole week. He even likes them better than the feeling of freedom after a long week's work he experiences on Friday nights or the lazy time he gets to enjoy on Saturdays, knowing that there's more weekend still to come. 

Even though Sunday nights mean work bright and early the next morning, Izuru likes them the best because it's on Sunday nights when he and Ikkaku stay in. On Sunday nights it's just the two of them and no one else for the whole evening.

And he thinks the best part about it all is getting to make dinner together, because the way Ikkaku's eyes smolder when he sees the blonde in his apron makes him blush happily, makes him feel wanted and admired and mostly, loved.

Plus, he likes teaching Ikkaku how to make dumplings just right, taking the other man's floured hands in his own and showing him how to pinch the skins together perfectly so that the meat doesn't squish out of the edges or the wrapper doesn't tear between his fingers.

He also likes the way Ikkaku smiles at him and says, "Well, ain't that somethin'?" when he figures it out with Kira's help, whistling appreciatively and looking genuinely thrilled with the blonde's skills and his own burgeoning abilities.

And he likes how Ikkaku tries so hard when they're doing stuff like that, how the other man concentrates on the task, whatever it is, like it's a life or death battle and not something silly and unimportant like a couples' cooking lesson in their small kitchen. The other man puts all his effort into what they do together every Sunday night, and he even puffs up a little afterwards, when Kira praises his good work. Like it's a big deal. The biggest, even.

And the blonde has to admit that he can't quite get over how nice it is to be stirring the soup at the stove and suddenly feel mischievous hands reach out towards him, leaving powdery white handprints here and there on his clothes--a mess maybe-- but not so bad that it isn't worth the trouble in the end, when he turns the fire down and melts back against the arms encircling him, letting himself indulge in those firm touches and sweet kisses for a bit, while he waits for the broth to boil.

It's every Sunday night that Izuru can look forward to these sorts of things with Madarame, the two of them sitting around the kitchen table exchanging sweet, sideways glances and making food, their shoulders or elbows touching just so.

There's an openness in their well-lit kitchen on those nights, a familiarity and sense of togetherness that he didn't have before, alone at his work and hoping Ichimaru-taichou would appreciate the bento he was making him for the next morning. And it's a world of difference from sitting down to a meal himself while taichou takes his in his office, or baking cookies or cakes for special gifts and having them so easily tossed aside as his body is taken as the present instead.

This isn't like that at all.

But then again, it's less about serving with Ikkaku, he supposes. Before, he'd felt that his duty both as vice-captain and as lover to Gin meant unerring, devoted service. He'd felt that he had to give all of himself up for whatever it was that Ichimaru would demand from him. His life, his time, his every effort. It had all been there, for Gin to take as he saw fit.

Izuru remembers how much he had been willing to give.

Now, when he sets down the hot bowls of soup in front of Ikkaku, it doesn't feel like anything's being taken from him at all.

"Heh, this one's gotta be mine," the eleventh division shinigami declares, spooning one steaming dumpling up and examining it critically. "'Cuz it ain't even, exactly." He grins then, looking a bit sheepish.

Kira smiles. "At least they have personality?" he offers, not dishonestly.

Ikkaku looks at him, playful. "You laughin' at me, blondie?"

"Of course not," Izuru responds quickly, turning back to his food. "You must be imagining things."

Madarame's eyes glitter and he sets down his spoon, sliding his chair backwards in one decisive movement.

Kira blinks. "Is it no good?" he asks, worriedly.

"Nope, I'll bet it's fine," Ikkaku assures him. "Just too hot, is all."

"Oh?" Kira asks, blowing gently on his first spoonful.

"Yup!" Ikkaku declares, before reaching over and pushing Izuru's hand down so that his dumpling plops back into the bowl. "We're gonna wait for it to cool."

"Oh?" Kira repeats, reading the look in his lover's eyes just right.

"Yup!"

And then Kira is being attacked, the two of them sliding down onto the kitchen floor as the blonde smiles and holds on tight.

"Ikkaku, they'll get cold!"

"We better make this quick then, huh?"

"Ikkaku!"

"_Woah, momma!_"

Laughing breathlessly in his lover's arms, Kira can't help but think that like this, _for_ this, it doesn't feel like he's giving up much of anything at all.

Rather, it feels like he has everything in the world.

**END**


	371. Babysitting: Ganjyu

**371.**

**Title:** Eleventh Division- Adventures in Babysitting Part 5: Ganjyu  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ganjyu, Yachiru, Kenpachi  
**Word Count:** 719  
**Warning/s: **Er, no real spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Sequel to #366 ("Eleventh Division- Adventures in Babysitting Part 4: Renji")- Traditions stand in the eleventh division.  
**Dedication:** for aberystwyth- thank you for the beautiful art!  
**A/N: **This is also loosely related to all my fics where Yumi and Ikkaku leave the 11th to become captains or vice-captains or whatever, I suppose. Ganjyu is the newbie? XD Anyway, I'm sorry I'm so damn lame. LAME!

* * *

Yachiru pouts. "I don't _need_ babysittin' no more!" she protests. "I'm big now!" 

Ganjyu looks down at his vice-captain, arms crossed. "Well, ya ain't big, really. But you are kinda scary."

She beams. "Thanks!"

He blinks. "In fact, you kinda remind me of someone."

"Waaah, really? Is it Ken-chan? I wanna be just like Ken-chan when I'm big!"

The mental image of Yachiru-turned-Zaraki hurts his brain for a second, and Ganjyu stares. "Um. Actually, I was gonna say my neesan. You're scary like my neesan," he manages, upon recovery.

She blinks back. "Oh."

Silence.

Then, "So, whaddya wanna do, newbie?" she asks, happily.

"Dunno. What do you wanna do?"

Almost impossibly, she brightens even more at the question. "Waaaah, really? I know '_xactly _what I wanna do!" she exclaims, before taking his hand and dragging him off too fast for him to properly respond.

Hours later, when they're in the fourth division hospice and Hanatarou is fussing around Ganjyu's injuries, Yamada can't help but ask, "What happened, Ganjyu-san?"

Ganjyu crosses his arms and glowers at a pouting Yachiru. "_She_ happened, is what happened."

"Monkey-face is no fun," she grumps, crossing her arms and glaring back.

"The hell happened?" Kenpachi asks later, when he's forced to pick his vice-captain and new third chair up from the fourth division (which he _hates_ going to).

Yachiru frowns from her place atop Kenpachi's shoulder. "Was just havin' fun, Ken-chan!"

"She started a melee in the middle of district 257!" Ganjyu protests heatedly, aggravating the cut under his eye. "I think several people died in that fight!"

Kenpachi turns to Yachiru. "That true?"

She nods. "Yup!"

The captain pauses. "You hurt?"

She shakes her head, vigorously. "Nope!"

He shrugs. "Huh."

Ganjyu gapes. "But, taichou!"

Yachiru sticks her tongue out at him before turning back to Zaraki. "Ne, Ken-chan!"

"What?"

"I'm too old to be babysat anymore!" she tells him, scrambling off towards his other shoulder as he moves.

"The hell makes you say that?"

She points at Ganjyu. "'Cuz _I_ hadta babysit _him_!"

Zaraki blinks. Turns to Ganjyu. "That true?"

Ganjyu looks away. "Che. Yeah, well. Too busy worried 'bout her to be payin' much attention to myself, I suppose. She mighta pulled me away from some potential stab wounds or somethin'. "

Zaraki snorts. "Brat can take care of herself. You ain't gotta worry for her."

"Then why the hell does she need a goddamn babysitter in the first place?"

Zaraki shrugs one shoulder, jostling Yachiru a bit. "Dunno. Ask Yumi, I guess. Fruity bastard was the one who insisted on it."

"That was a loooong time ago! I'm big now!" the vice-captain protests, pouting cutely. "I know lots more than I used ta!"

Zaraki grunts. "You ain't ever gonna be big I don't think, ya damned shrimp."

"But, Ken-chan!"

"S'ppose though," he continues, when he hears a distinct whine begin to creep into her voice, "that ya don't need a babysitter no more."

She beams. "Waah, really?"

Zaraki's one eye slides over toward Ganjyu. "Specially since all the good babysitters ain't around no more."

"Hey!"

"Waaah, thank you, Ken-chan! I'll take care of myself real good, you'll see!"

"Yeah. Well. Go'n wash up for supper, will ya? Bein' so damn noisy."

"Okay, Ken-chan!" She beams at him one last time before zipping off ahead of them, leaving the eleventh division captain and his new third chair behind.

Ganjyu swallows, nervously. "So uh…"

"You lost a fight."

"Sorta. Yeah."

Pause. "That crazy bitch with one arm still your sister?"

Ganjyu glares. "Hey, she's not a…"

Zaraki eyes him.

"Okay yeah, she is."

Kenpachi sighs. "Well. I guess I'll let it go this once."

That said, Zaraki ambles off ahead himself, leaving Ganjyu staring in his wake.

It's so unlike the infamous Zaraki Kenpachi to ever capitulate to anything. Having the captain do it twice in one day is mind-boggling.

Though, Ganjyu supposes, bowing out to Yachiru and the shadow of Kuukaku is what any man who had a healthy respect for living would do, given the situation.

The third chair imagines a grown, one-armed Yachiru cackling at him and blowing fire fifty or so years into the future, a spitting image of fear and death and his older sibling.

Shivering, the new shinigami jogs to catch up to his captain.

"That's fuckin' scary."

**END**


	372. Communication Issues

**372.**

**Title:** Communication Issues  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchigoxIshida  
**Word Count:** 608  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** Ichigo doesn't do romance.  
**Dedication:** kshi- you CAN draw seme Ichigo! XD   
**A/N: **I don't know where this came from. I really don't. Maybe the incredibly GAY IchigoxIshida clear folder I saw at Kinokuniya yesterday. O.o

* * *

It was about a week ago when Ishida (the bastard) had cut him off, citing that he wasn't just some easy fuck toy Ichigo could come and see whenever he had something in his pants that needed taking care of. 

Ichigo's off the fly response had been an ill-timed, "Why the hell not!" and it had only escalated from there, the bespectacled Quincy scowling and storming off, telling Kurosaki that if he _ever _wanted to see him on his back and naked again, he'd better learn how to stop being a dimwit and act a little bit more romantic.

Ichigo, who'd been on the verge of apologizing up until the dimwit line, had bit his tongue and swallowed the apology, gritting his teeth and declaring, "Who needs sex with you anyway, asshole?" in response.

That had had been a little less than seven days ago.

Ichigo wasn't sure if it was some sort of karmic turn of fate or something, but gym class had suddenly gone from outdoor running sports to indoor…swimming ones.

Things were not going well for him, and those words he'd uttered to Uryuu a week ago--before he'd had to see the other boy half-naked and wet—had come back to haunt him in a big way.

Ichigo thought he was going a little bit crazy. Water-polo (and the subsequent requirement of having to grab people during the game) was not helping.

Ishida probably knew it too, because he seemed to be doing his best to grab hold of Ichigo and wrap his legs around him under the water in a more than competitive manner.

Ichigo hoped the smug bastard was suffering equally from the sex deprivation. It would serve the smug asshole right, goddammit.

Kurosaki was determined that he wasn't going to be the first one to swallow his pride and give in.

Who the hell needed to be romantic anyway? The two of them together was already way too damn weird as it was. And Ishida had never done anything romantic _first_, so it wasn't like Ichigo had any sort of template to work with on the whole thing.

The Quincy expected too damn much of him, really.

Well. He wasn't going to let the bastard have his way just like that. Not without a fight.

So, upon seeing Ishida outside of the locker room after class today, he quickly looked away, planning on ignoring the Quincy completely and getting home so he could _not_ think about sex.

Except that as he passed the other boy, he found himself, too his horror, stopping and clearing his throat.

"Did you want something, Kurosaki?" the archer questioned mildly, putting his shoes on.

Ichigo told himself to shout "Hell no!" at the prissy bastard and storm off so he could proceed with the whole going straight home plan.

"Your uh, your shoes are especially clean today," he muttered, instead.

Ishida blinked at him.

There was a moment of mutually stunned silence between them and Ichigo turned slightly red, but kept glaring ahead, determined not to react until Uryuu did.

And then, "_That's_ you being romantic! That's your big romantic declaration?"

Ichigo blinked. "Hey! I um… I ain't good at this shit, okay?" he admitted hotly, flushing a deeper shade of crimson (which subsequently canceled out any attempt of his at sounding righteously indignant).

Ishida rolled his eyes.

They looked at each other.

"So…" Ichigo started after an awkwardly lengthy pause, "wanna go have sex now?"

Ishida sighed and adjusted his glasses, figuring that this was as good as it was going to get for them. "Yeah, okay."

Ichigo grinned, relief evident on his face. "Sweet."

**END**


	373. Scandalous

**373.**

**Title:** Scandalous  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count:** 702  
**Warning/s: **PRON. There is PRON ALL OVER THIS.  
**Summary:** Ikkaku isn't the perverted one in the relationship. Well, not the only perverted one. XD  
**Dedication:** swinku- Fangirling Ikkira with you is the best thing EVER. XD Also for JaB BECAUSE SHE'S DRAWING PRON YES SHE IS. XD  
**A/N: **After chatting with swinku during the Division 14 P-chat the other night, I came away with a wealth of inspiration (and lots of hot images of Ikkaku training shirtless, ho yes. XD). Thus. The pron lives here.

* * *

The guys always accuse him of being a horn dog, of always jumping on Kira and attacking him like some sex-starved addict whenever he gets the chance, regardless of the poor blonde's feelings or desires regarding the matter. 

They say that Kira can't possibly want to have sex (with _Ikkaku _at least) _all_ the time.

Ikkaku thinks that his idiot friends obviously know absolutely jack shit about what's going on then, because he's 100 certain that Izuru isn't the blushing little flower they think he is, not the sweet, innocent, "can't say 'no' even if he wants to" helpless type they take him for.

If only they knew all the things Ikkaku knows. They'd think twice about what they say to him.

If they knew about how Ikkaku can sense eyes fixated intently on him whenever he takes his shirt off and trains, they wouldn't be so quick to condemn him for his actions. If they knew how it feels like sex is hungry and staring right at him and every muscle on his body when he's trying to work out, they'd agree with him right away.

None of it is his fault at all.

Or better yet, if they knew about how Kira complains when Ikkaku has to go for a few days, the blonde murmuring about loneliness as he takes Ikkaku's clothes to bed with him every night, burying his face into one of Madarame's uniforms or towels and draping the material all around him for the smell alone.

When Ikkaku comes back the sheets smell like sex and Izuru always whispers that it hadn't been enough.

If they knew about that, Ikkaku thinks they would be shocked as all hell.

Maybe not as surprised as they'd be if they knew how Ikkaku sometimes wakes up in the early dawn with a moaning Izuru hot and slick all around him, the blonde smiling down from atop the third chair pink-cheeked and delicious looking as he murmurs, "Good morning," and does wicked things with that amazing body, things that make Ikkaku come in all of about a minute, gasping and wide-eyed to greet the day.

It's nothing short of amazing, really, that Iba and the guys have the gall to accuse _him_ of tiring poor Kira out, when _he's_ the one who wakes up as he's being ridden like a horse, when _he's_ the one who tries to get some training in when an arm suddenly wraps around him and talented fingers sneak wickedly into the slit of his hakama.

Che. Those stupid idiots don't know anything.

And he'd tell them himself about it, if he thought it was any of their business.

But it isn't, and so he grits his teeth and takes the verbal beatings (returning them more often than not with physical ones), because no one needs to know about those things but Kira and him.

Besides, if he _was_ to tell them everything, he doesn't want to have to kill the fuckers for (inevitably) picturing Kira naked in their dirty rotten pervert heads afterwards.

"Mmm, what are you scowling about?" Kira asks, still flushed and warm from earlier. The blonde stretches luxuriously and crawls closer to Ikkaku, nudging him playfully with his nose. "Can't sleep?"

"Nah, nothin' like that," Ikkaku murmurs, smiling lopsidedly and gently tugging the blonde on top of him. "Just thinkin'."

"About what?" Izuru presses, resting his head on the other man's chest contentedly.

"'bout what a nympho you are," Madarame snickers, not unkindly.

Kira rolls his eyes and shifts his hips slightly, fixing his lover with an appraising look when he finds the other man's cock firm and ready by his thigh. "_I'm_ not the one who feels like he's up for another go."

Ikkaku's eyes smolder and he wraps his arms around the smug looking blonde, placing his palms on that perfect little ass and squeezing. "Not yet, maybe," he teases, feeling Izuru squirm in protest against him. "There we are," he grins after a moment. "Ya perv."

Kira laughs but doesn't deny it, and as Ikkaku rolls them over anticipatorily, he can't help but think to himself that man… if only the guys knew what he knows.

They'd be downright scandalized.

**END**


	374. Try, Try Again

**374.**

**Title:** Try, Try Again  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxKira, vague Renji+Kira  
**Word Count:** 839  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers really. I think?  
**Summary:** Renji refuses to give up.  
**Dedication:** para- YAY P-chat! Haha this is the only way I feel I can be useful in return. XD  
**A/N: **Yes, fighting over cute ukes is somehow, VERY HOT.

* * *

There's something about Ichimaru-taichou that doesn't sit with Renji quite right. 

It might be the fact that the bastard is always touching Kira, is always taking the redhead's friend and making him shiver, making him blush.

Right in front of Abarai, the silver-haired captain always seems to be smiling eerily at him as he puts is hand on Kira's shoulder or drapes an arm around the blonde's waist, the look on his face daring Renji to try anything, challenging him.

Renji wants to rip Izuru out of the smirking bastard's arms and shove his friend protectively behind him, because there's a feeling he gets when he looks at Gin that makes the blood freeze cold in his veins.

He tries to bring it up with Kira sometimes, when Gin isn't around. Tries to see if maybe Izuru feels it too, that odd sensation of not-quite-right that Ichimaru seems to radiate.

Kira blinks and says he likes his taichou very much. That his taichou is very kind.

His cheeks turn pink every time he says that, and he can't quite look Abarai in the eye.

Renji grits his teeth and wants to march over and kill the foxy bastard for that alone.

And Gin is always mocking him it seems, when he sees the two of them together. The third division captain likes to interrupt them, to snatch Kira away from Renji and make sure the redhead knows how easy it is for him to do as such.

"Naaa, Kira-kun, can you come back to headquarters with me for a moment?"

And Renji will glare at that, snorting and declaring, "'s our lunch break, taichou. Why don't ya let Izuru get a decent meal in him once in a while, huh?"

"Mmm… I suppose you're right. Ma, I'll just go back and do the work myself, I suppose. Sorry to bother you…"

"No, I'll go taichou! I'm done here anyway."

"Aah, what a good fukutaichou you are, Kira-kun."

And then the blonde is up and gone without a backwards glance, blushing at his captain's praise while Gin offers one last sinister smile at Abarai over his shoulder before putting an arm around his vice-captain, leading Kira back to headquarters and away from Renji just like that.

It makes the redhead absolutely sick to his stomach when he thinks about it, about those ever-present hands wrapped around his friend and Kira's sweet blushes and shy looks. It makes him wonder what Gin must do to earn those things, makes him think about what goes on back in that dark division headquarters as the bastard smiles that eerie smile and makes it known to the world that Kira Izuru belongs to him and no one else.

Abarai thinks it's because of something like jealousy maybe, that he finds himself feeling like he wants nothing more than to glide in under that creep's nose and take Kira back (because dammit, he'd had him first).

But at the same time, there's something about Gin's flaunting that makes Renji unsure, that makes him think that there's a reason the other man is so certain in his hold over the blonde that he can mock others about it. And those shy, happy looks he sees from Kira don't help Abarai's confidence any.

He can't help but think that maybe Ichimaru can afford to show off like he does because he's really got Kira, because he knows it's a sure thing every time. And while Renji can't stand the thought of that being true, a part of him fears that it is and that he couldn't take Kira back even if he tried to.

But he feels like he has to, oddly enough, feels like maybe there's a noose slowly tightening around Izuru's neck or something, and that if he lets it go on for much longer, the blonde will be in real trouble. He can't explain it really, beyond the fact that there's something about Ichimaru Gin that doesn't sit right with him.

It doesn't make much sense maybe, but it's enough for Renji, who's always trusted his gut above all else.

So he grits his teeth and keeps trying no matter what, glaring at Ichimaru's hand draped over Kira's shoulders and telling himself that one day, one day, the bastard won't be able to touch the blonde without getting a sound ass-kicking for even daring to try.

It may take some time, and definitely a hell of a lot of effort, but Renji is determined to make it like that, to have Izuru realize that it's not supposed to be Gin's hands touching him, that it's not supposed to be Gin's smiles that make him blush.

Hell, at the current going rate, it might take years to get blindly happy Kira Izuru to figure that out.

But one thing about Renji… he knows that one of his most admirable traits is his dogged persistence.

So even if it doesn't happen today or tomorrow, he comforts himself with the knowledge that yeah, he'll get there eventually.

**END**


	375. Forward Motions

**375.**

**Title:** Forward Motions  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 946  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for Shun and Jyuu's back story, I guess. But nothing major.  
**Summary:** Kyouraku remembers the day his life turned around completely.  
**Dedication:** swinku- OMG SO CUTE. 3  
**A/N: **This was supposed to be pure fluff, based on a Div 14 P-Chat we did on Friday, but angst ended up working its way into the story anyway, and I just don't know what to do about it. Hopefully it doesn't read to schizophrenically.

* * *

Kyouraku remembers a time in his youth when he chased happily after any pretty face, a time when he fell instantly in love with delicious hips and shapely breasts or doted on soft, feminine features and friendly, girlish laughs at the drop of a hat. 

He remembers a time when he didn't know what life was really about, when he was in and out of love with the various girls in his class a week or two at a time and chasing after the ones he wasn't in love with for fun anyway.

He remembers that time, the one before the day fate intervened and he tapped a fellow classmate on the shoulder to ask for directions because he didn't know where the administration office was. Looking back, it was that one incident that was responsible for bringing something new and wonderful into his world, causing that misguided part of his past to fade away without being terribly missed.

Because at the moment when that classmate of his turned around smiled at him with a sincerity that made every part of him stop and stare, Kyouraku Shunsui realized for real, what love really feels like.

"Ah, you've never been there? Let me show you then. It's right this way."

"I uh…I… er. Haha, I don't want to cause you any trouble…"

"It's okay!" the other boy had said quickly, "I was on my way to the nurse's office anyway, and it's on the way."

He'd frowned. "Are you not feeling well?"

"A little bit weak from physical training classes earlier today," Jyuushirou had responded, blushing a little bit in embarrassment. "I just need to lie down for a bit and I'll be fine."

He's not sure if it was that hint of sadness he'd seen in Ukitake's eyes as he'd said that, but from that moment on he remembers wanting nothing more in the world than to cheer the other boy up. To make those eyes smile always.

He never stopped pursuing the girls (habit, perhaps) after that, but he recalls giving up the chase every time Jyuushirou came into his line of sight, his attention being dragged from those pretty young bodies towards that smile, towards that open, friendly greeting and the offer to join Ukitake for lunch.

He'd always dropped everything at the chance to dote on his cute little Jyuu-chan just a little bit more.

To be honest, he still does.

Which is why he's sitting here now, by his sweet Jyuushirou's bedside as the other captain coughs and looks up apologetically at him.

"I…"

"Shhhh," Shunsui hushes sweetly, smiling down at Ukitake as he holds his hand. "Get some sleep, hmmm?" he asks, unable to hide the worry that cracks his voice just a little bit, the eighth division leader trying to keep his eyes turned away from the blood stained cloth Jyuushirou had coughed into as it sits menacingly on the white-haired captain's nightstand.

Ukitake's eyes are filled with unspeakable sadness as he looks back, and Shunsui feels his heart break a little, as he squeezes the hand in his own. "Aah, none of that now," he urges, pressing a soft kiss to his lover's forehead. "By your side forever, hmmm?" he reminds Jyuushirou. "Now rest."

Ukitake sighs and wants to say something back, though he knows if he tries there will just be more coughing, more blood, more worry. So he reaches up and touches Shunsui's face for just a second, offering a tired, mourning smile of thanks before settling back down and closing his eyes.

Shunsui strokes his hair and watches him sleep the whole night through. He thinks about those days back in academy and those days that followed today, when he first fell in love with, and continues to fall in love with Jyuushirou's smile.

Maybe he was more carefree in his youth, he thinks, when it was easy to fall in and out of love with any number of pretty girls, who there always seemed to be plenty of.

Jyuushirou jokes sometimes, in a bout of black humor that Kyouraku doesn't appreciate at all, that maybe one day Shunsui will have to settle for one or a hundred of those girls after all, after Ukitake's gone.

Kyouraku always frowns at that, tells his Jyuu-chan that he'd never dream of such a thing.

Jyuushirou frowns back and says that maybe it's for the best, that maybe he'll be gone any day now.

Shunsui's only response is to take the white-haired man's hand in his and say that if that's the case, they'll just have to live every day like eternity.

The answer usually earns a small smile from Ukitake, and mission accomplished, Shunsui proceeds to show him all the wonderful things they can do together in just a day, while a part of him knows that Jyuushirou is right, that any day now, any moment from now, they could be parted forever.

It would be easier, maybe, to fall in and out of love with a hundred pretty girls instead, to avoid the pain of loss he knows he'll have to experience one day, when the blood doesn't stop coming.

But Shunsui isn't really big on doing things that way anymore, easier or no. Tapping a white-haired boy on the shoulder one fateful day after class made that part of his life impossible to return to, and he thinks he's better for it. He won't go back to how he was before that moment. He can't.

Because no matter what happens, he's glad that Jyuushirou has given him this chance, this opportunity, to discover what love really is.

From here, he knows he can only go forward.

**END**


	376. House of Shiba

**376.**

**Title:** House of Shiba  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** GanjyuxHanatarou, Kuukaku  
**Word Count:** 996 (ack, close. O.o)  
**Warning/s: **Schmoop and fluff and a bad resolution. Er, also, vague spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary: **Sequel to #361 ("With this Ring")- Hanatarou has second thoughts.  
**Dedication:** for Jen- yay Div 14 P-chat!  
**A/N: **Last one I owe from Friday… whew! What a work out. Hopefully it's not too cracked out because I have to go film my project in a little while and the nervousness eats at me. O.o

* * *

When they see his ring his teammates laugh and pat him on the back, congratulating him on marrying up. It's not every day a fourth division member is proposed to by the last male heir of one of the four noble houses after all. 

Granted, it's a fallen one, but ever since the Aizen incident it's been regaining quite a bit of its former prestige (especially after romantic tales about how Ganjyu stood up to Kuchiki Byakuya to save Hanatarou began spreading around the female population of seireitei).

Hanatarou can't do anything but smile when they say stuff like hat, excusing himself because he doesn't quite like recalling the memory of how Ganjyu had looked after that fight with Byakuya, as it is quite possibly, the worst moment of his life.

And to add to that, he just doesn't think he needs a reminder that he's marrying up in the world, that he's a peasant or a commoner or whatever it is they call them when they're in a noble house, because he can't help but wonder if Ganjyu's responsibilities as the last male heir to the clan mean that he should be with someone else, so that he can continue to rebuild the name of the Shiba for generations to come.

Hanatarou's not sure he feels comfortable with bringing about the end of a dynasty. He wasn't built for big things like that, he thinks. He wasn't meant to lead any sort of extraordinary life.

It's funny that it took Ganjyu's proposing before Yamada realized it, but he knows now, after everyone's words and well-wishes, that he's far too…common.

And he loves Ganjyu enough to know that maybe he can sacrifice something for the other man this time. Face his own Kuchiki Byakuya on a bridge, so to speak.

He thinks about how he's going to break the news to Ganjyu for a whole week, and his nervousness drives the other man crazy the entire time.

Eventually, both Shiba siblings are fed up with it.

Kuukaku, unsurprisingly, is the first to demand an explanation, the three of them sitting over dinner in charged silence.

"It's um…it's noth-…"

She fixes him with a look. "You sure you wanna finish that statement there, Hana?"

The little shinigami swallows. "I um. I've been thinking," he responds, honestly this time (Kuukaku is scary).

"'Bout what?" Ganjyu asks, looking at his sister with eyes that scream "be gentler!" as he pats Hana's arm soothingly.

"I… maybe you and I… maybe we shouldn't, you know…"

"What?" Ganjyu pushes, brow furrowing at how distressed Yamada sounds.

"We shouldn't get married?" Hanatarou manages, holding his breath and waiting for Ganjyu's reaction.

It's not as violent as he'd thought it be.

More a mixture of confusion and—regrettably—hurt, as the bigger man blinks and leans back into his chair, speechless. "Huh," he murmurs. "Huh."

Kuukaku and Hanatarou both know those "huhs" mean "What?" and "Why?" respectively.

It makes Hanatarou feel horrible, looking at the emotions that are flashing across Ganjyu's face, and he turns away, fiddling with the ring on his finger for a moment before sliding it off and setting it on the table. "I was just thinking," he begins, voice barely audible. "I mean…I'm…and you're… I'm not. I'm not someone who can give you what you need."

Ganjyu turns incredulous. "The hell does that mean? I haven't needed anything else but you for _forever_ now!" He frowns. "Ya need a better explanation than that, Hana, 'fore I'm gonna let you back outta this."

"I just… I'm not a _girl_," he manages, cheeks turning pink.

Ganjyu blinks. After a second he blushes and mutters, "Er… I kinda know that already."

"I just…I don't want you to be the last one, I guess," Hanatarou continues, though things only seem to get more convoluted as he goes on.

"Mur?" Ganjyu questions, completely lost now.

Kuukaku sighs and rubs her temples. "Idiots, the both of ya." She reaches across the table and raps Hanatarou on the head with her chopsticks. "No one in the known universe but you would want my idiot little brother to contribute his stupidity to the gene pool. You're both so damn dumb you deserve each other and nobody else," she announces, irate at the melodrama that's interrupted dinner.

Ganjyu blinks, as realization slowly dawns. "Oh! You mean… you…" he gestures vaguely with his hands, trailing off.

"Yeah," the little guy murmurs. "I mean… you're the last son!"

Ganjyu snorts. "That don't mean nothin'."

"Sure it does!" Hanatarou insists, thinking that his fight on the bridge isn't going well either. "You have a responsibility to continue the family line, and this is such an old, noble house. I…I don't want to be the one who ends it!"

"This house was built last week, remember?" Kuukaku reminds him, looking around.

Ganjyu ignores her. "I ain't gonna repopulate the damn clan just on account of me bein' the last son," he states. "I ain't a horse out to stud. This ain't about anyone but me'n you, Hana. So if that's the only reason you don't wanna get married, then I'm gonna have to say I don't buy it. Now, do you love me or not, ya little idiot?"

"Of course I do!"

Hanatarou looks wounded at the question, and feeling a pang of sympathy for what Yamada must have gone through thinking about this whole thing the past few days, Ganjyu drapes an arm around him and pulls him closer. "Well, good then. That settles it," he announces, pressing a kiss to the shinigami's temple. "'Sides," he adds, motioning to his sister, "she's the head of this household, not me. We'll leave the heir-makin' to her, whaddya say?" he asks, favoring Yamada with a small, lopsided smile.

"O-okay."

"Great," Kuukaku announces. "Now put his damn ring back on and let's finish dinner. Don't want the two of you to have to stay up very late doin' dishes, after all."

"Yes, neesan," they respond.

**END**


	377. Welcome to the Family

**377.**

**Title:** Welcome to the Family  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightlyRenjixByakuya, mentions of ByakuyaxHisana  
**Word Count:** 424  
**Warning/s: **Probably a ton of OOCness from Byakuya, but I kind of like the idea that he has a sense of humor, so… yeah.  
**Summary:** Byakuya has an inner rebel.   
**Dedication:** kouriarashi- yes, I am easily bribed. ;;  
**A/N: **Haha It's 11 the day of my big shoot. I'm GOING A LITTLE BIT CRAZY. --;;

* * *

If the Kuchiki clan didn't like Hisana, Byakuya can't help but muse rather morbidly, they'll absolutely despise Renji. 

Bringing home an upstart low-class street urchin is one thing. He's done that part before, so he's not really a stranger to their reactions on that particular point of interest.

The fact that _this_ particular upstart low-class street urchin of his is another_ guy_ might surprise the rest of the family, however.

He doesn't quite know if he looks forward to it or not, being that it's a toss up between old hat and interesting new twists.

Renji doesn't find it half as amusing. He's rather worried, actually, and has been practicing for his introduction to the Kuchiki clan for a good few days now.

"Er. And then I um. I bow? Do I bow? Again? Or um. Well, whatever. Can't bow too much, right? Er… how about eating? Can I not eat until someone else does? Ah fuckin' shit. Um. I don't remember that part. Oi, taichou, help me out, will ya?"

Byakuya smirks. "Eat whenever you'd like, Renji."

The redhead blinks. "What, really?"

"Yes," the captain responds, masking the long-suffering tone he'd like to use and concentrating on his paperwork instead. "Whenever you'd like."

The vice-captain pauses. "Huh. Okay. I can remember that." He smiles. "Hey, all these manners type things ain't that hard after all then, I guess."

"No, not hard at all," Byakuya echoes absently, the sixth division leader busy signing his name to more requisition forms and assignment reports. "Quite easy, really."

Renji leans back, relaxing. "Yeah. Nothin' to worry 'bout. I'm uh, I'm totally ready to meet yer family. Yeah."

"Mmm hmmm," his captain responds. "I'm sure they'll go absolutely wild for you."

The redhead blushes. "What, ya think?" He looks pleased at the idea. "That'd be nice."

"Very nice."

Renji pauses. "Hey… should I bring a gift or something?"

"If you'd like. Though I think it's hardly necessary."

Abarai thinks hard about it for a while. Then, "How 'bout some booze? I got some good stuff, knock their socks right off." He grins anticipatorily. "Ain't none of that pansy shit either."

Byakuya favors Renji with a small smile. "Lovely."

And then, turning back to his work, the sixth division captain finishes his missive, thinking to himself that when the redhead comes into his home for the first time tomorrow night, at least one of the Kuchiki elders will die from the shock.

Rather bemusedly, Byakuya can't help but think it's time for some new blood in the family anyway.

**END**


	378. Distance Between

**378. **

**Title:** Distance Between  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Byakuya, Rukia  
**Word Count:** 998  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Byakuya protects from afar.   
**Dedication:** sophiap- vaguely inspired by that great Byakuya and Rukia one line drabble you did on your journal.  
**A/N: **I guess I felt the need for some sibling love lately. Haha mostly 'cuz I've been worrying about my little brother lately… after he got that C on one of his midterms. O.o I don't think he's been getting enough sleep. Er, anyway… my brain is still a little um…dead after yesterday. So. Apologies for anything that doesn't make sense. Probably all of it. --;;

* * *

He does his best to protect her from afar because he can't think of anything else to do, given how she shies away from him at every turn, how she's there but not, all at the same time. 

She's respectful and distant and after time he realizes that that's how she'll always be towards him. He lets her dictate the grounds of their relationship because he tried to do the opposite once before, with Hisana. He doesn't want to make the same mistake twice, doesn't want to force Rukia into an intimacy she has no desire to be in. And though he looks at her in a completely different manner than he did her sister, he knows that some things are exactly the same.

He's learned from his mistakes, learned that encouraging a relationship upon someone who's uncertain about it won't, in the long run, lead to the love he wants from that person. Not if they don't want it first.

You can't just try really hard to make someone love you.

Kuchiki Byakuya knows that now, and while he longs to love Rukia as family, she only bows her head silently to him in his home and places a great chasm between them.

And while that stings Byakuya inexplicably, he allows her to dictate the terms of their relationship because he's learned in the past that you can't simply hope for something hard enough and have it come true with the strength of your will alone.

If she doesn't desire a close relationship with him, he won't force one upon her.

He can't.

And so he acts as her brother from afar, from a place where she can't see him, because it's all he can think to do given the boundaries she has drawn between them. To her face, he responds to her politeness with politeness, her sparse words in like.

He waits until her eyes are turned away to show his desire to be her brother, to be accepted as her family as he's accepted her as his.

He watches over her as best he can from across the great expanse between them.

In this manner, he encourages her endeavors in the academy. Sometimes he longs to say, "You've done well," when he sees her returned with high scores and high spirits, but when she faces him she always sobers and bows her head, reporting her achievements as mere formality.

And so the praise he has for her dies in his throat, and he responds with "Continue to uphold the standards of the Kuchiki then, Rukia," as like formality.

When she's accepted in the Gotei-13 he visits Shiba Kaien immediately, because he thinks his friend is the only one he will be able to trust to look after her. Kaien laughs at him and readily agrees to speak with his captain about recruiting young Kuchiki Rukia. When the vice-captain asks him why Byakuya didn't have her placed in the sixth division so he could watch out for her himself, Byakuya states that she wouldn't have wished it.

She joins the thirteenth division shortly thereafter.

Some years later, he wakes up to discover that he can feel her power, brilliant and real around him. But rather than joy, it causes him great concern. Because he knows that after Kaien's death, she won't be able to handle the responsibility. That her abilities have outgrown her spirit.

He pays visits to each captain of the Gotei-13 then, and manages to make it so Rukia will be safe from the burden of a high seat. At least, until the ghost of Shiba Kaien's death releases its hold on her.

She's never allowed to become a seated officer.

When she's indicted for high treason against the court of seireitei some time after that, he realizes that he doesn't know how to protect her anymore, doesn't know if their distant relationship makes for justifiable grounds to break her out and hide her away as he desires, despite promises made at his parents' graves.

Torn, he waits for her to dictate the terms of this situation once again. When she sits quietly in her cell and accepts death, he makes himself accept it too, because he knows he's not the type of man who can force his own desires upon others. He's learned that to do so only creates more pain, and that's the last thing he wants for Rukia, who sits repentant and aching in prison.

He vows to himself that if it is justice she desires for herself, he will uphold it for her at all costs.

It's the only way he can protect her now.

When Kurosaki Ichigo comes to save her, when the boy blatantly ignores the dictates Rukia has established in their relationship and thus changes her fate with just the power of his own will, Kuchiki Byakuya learns something else entirely.

He sees at that time, that despite her previous outward appearances, she'd wanted very much, to survive. It's odd for him, to discover that what she'd desired was the very opposite of how she'd acted.

Byakuya, in that moment, learns that his sister has many complicated layers that he has never gotten close enough to truly understand.

And he realizes then, that maybe the great expanse she'd first dictated between them wasn't what she'd wished for at all. Maybe she'd acted like the thought abhorred her when family was really the only thing she'd ever needed.

He'd been protecting her from afar for so long now, never believing that she might've been hoping for something else from him altogether.

With a mixture of dread and joy, Byakuya sees Kurosaki Ichigo leap over the great divide she'd created between them, bridging the gap and changing her world without a backwards glance.

Watching him, the sixth division captain discovers that as Rukia's older brother, he still has that great distance yet to traverse himself.

Chasing after the boy with the brilliant orange hair, Byakuya begins his journey immediately.

**END**


	379. Spit and Vinegar

**379.**

**Title:** Spit and Vinegar  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KiraxIkkaku (he can SO SEME)  
**Word Count:** 996  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the SS arc. Blatant, weird fanservice and OOCness ahead.  
**Summary:** Ikkaku likes 'em feisty.   
**Dedication:** para- thanks for the photo editing help and um, for entertaining the thought of drawing me more hawt Ikkaku. XD also, swinku as thanks for last minute photo editing for me and for spoiling me with great shunxuki love. XD  
**A/N: ** Ikkaku is so damn hot. And bitchy Kira is right up there with him. That's all the excuse I need, right?

* * *

It's odd that the sight is both startlingly fearsome and uncontrollably sexy to him all at the same time, but Ikkaku supposes that that's part of what keeps him coming back for more over and over again, the thrill he gets when his blood pumping hot and loud through his veins and his heart pounding in his chest like it is now, like it's trying to break out of him. 

It's glory and possible death all at once, and he can't help it when he feels his calves tighten eagerly, feels the muscles in his shoulders twitch as a slow grin spreads across his face.

Kira, hair tied up so he can cook without it getting in the way, glares back at him and continues his lecturing, the blonde unaware of Ikkaku's shift in mood, clueless as to Madarame's change from penitence to predatory eagerness.

"And I mean it, Ikkaku, I'm _tired_ of picking up empty beer cans from all over the house. When you finish at least have the decency to throw them away! I think there were things growing in one you left from last month! They were developing a social structure and a writing system before I tossed the disgusting thing!"

Ikkaku bets the blonde doesn't have a clue as to how great he looks right now, wearing a cute little pink apron as he stands over the stove and waves a ladle menacingly at Madarame, free hand on his hip and that adorable half pouty, half I'm-gonna-kill-you look on his face. Right now his sweet little Kira-chan is full of biting sass and righteous indignation and a thousand other things that bypass Ikkaku's brain and head straight for his groin.

Leering, Ikkaku takes a step forward.

He loves that he can see irritation there, plain as day on Izuru's face, loves that now, he can see every emotion Kira's feeling whenever the other man feels it, no holds barred, no fucking Ichimaru-training to get the vice-captain to hold back, to behave like a good little boy. Seeing this, looking at Kira like this, it's a thousand times hotter than the sadness Madarame remembers from the other man early on, the lost, uncertain look Izuru had given him when he'd been abandoned by Gin and didn't know what to do with himself afterwards.

And so this about-face he sees in his lover is simply magnificent to Ikkaku, who spent so much time and effort to get here. He'd grabbed hold of Izuru and shaken the blonde until the amazing little spitfire he knew the other man had inside came out, and now, now he gets to reap the rewards. He can't help but smile at the thought as he advances, his blood pumping anticipatorily in his ears.

Kira trails off abruptly as Ikkaku moves forward, recognizing the look in his lover's face and having none of it.

Not while he's annoyed like this, and not while he's trying to get a point across, goddammit.

The ladle lashes out faster than Ikkaku's eyes can follow, Kira bopping Madarame soundly on the head with his domestic weapon of choice.

"None of that, you horny bastard. I'm talking here!" Izuru announces, crossing his arms and daring Ikkaku to try anything again.

"Ow! Fuck!" Ikkaku shouts, grasping his head and taking several steps backwards. "Aw, c'mon, baby… I'm sorry, okay?" he says, quickly. "I just… you're all hot like that."

Kira rolls his eyes at how whiny the other shinigami sounds and turns back to his soup. "If you're sorry, stop doing it!" he finishes with a little huff.

Ikkaku frowns, but damn it all if he's still got a raging hard on looking at Kira's back like that, the eleventh division death god watching his lover as he stirs his soup and makes a show of ignoring Ikkaku until the idiot grows up and stops playing around.

Maybe he's a masochist (been in the eleventh too long or something), but Ikkaku is falling in love all over again.

Sidling up quietly this time, he manages to sneak up behind the vice-captain—he knows it's more because Kira is letting him than because he's succeeding in being surreptitious—and eventually, he gets his arms around the blonde. "Baby, my head hurts," he murmurs, resting his chin on Izuru's shoulder.

Kira snorts, but not in an angry way. "You're an idiot," he replies, before reaching around with his free hand and patting Madarame's wounded cranium.

Ikkaku sighs and breathes in Kira's smell, the thing he can't precisely identify and simply thinks of as 'real-nice.' "Mmm… got another ache that could use some attention too," he adds, unsubtle and damn proud.

Kira sniffs. "Better go have it looked at then."

Ikkaku laughs a little because even though Izuru is unbelievably hot angry, he's still pretty sexy when he's in a snit too. "You still mad then?"

"A bit."

"Too mad for sex?"

The blonde sighs. "I'm _cooking_."

Ikkaku can't help but grin, hand dipping down to squeeze Kira's ass appreciatively. "_Yeah_ you are."

That earns him a small squirm of protest before Kira turns around, arching one finely sculpted brow at his lover.

Ikkaku swallows.

"Five minutes 'til this soup is ready," Izuru announces after a moment of looking at Ikkaku.

The other shinigami grins. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Kira concedes, moving to kiss the corner of Ikkaku's mouth. "That means you've got five minutes to get naked and prepped if you wanna have a go," he adds, before turning back to his soup. "Better get a move on, ne?"

Ikkaku thinks that if it were anyone else there would be hell to pay for that little quip, but the fact that it's Kira—and an aggressive Kira at that—quells any complaints he has on the matter, the bald death god finding himself whooping and rushing out of the kitchen instead, half out of his pants before he reaches the bedroom door.

Yeah, five minutes should be just enough time.

**END**


	380. Creamy Fruit Center

**380.**

**Title:** Creamy Fruit Center  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchigoxIshidaxIchigo  
**Word Count:** 200  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but um, some innuendo. O.o  
**Summary:** Ishida buys a novelty item.  
**Dedication:** kshi for help with the photo project, and jeina, as thanks for the great fanarts!  
**A/N: **I blame kshi for giving me a dirty, dirty prompt. :P

* * *

When Ichigo glares at Ishida and tosses the present right at the perverted Quincy's dumb, smirking face by way of protest, Uryuu simply catches the package before it hits him and proceeds to very calmly open it with his teeth. 

"That's not even funny," Ichigo mutters, pink-cheeked.

Ishida's lips quirk into something like a smile and he pushes his glasses further up on his nose. "I wasn't trying to be funny, Kurosaki," he starts. "I just thought they were rather appropriate," he adds dryly, removing the rest of the wrapper and holding up one of the strawberry-flavored condoms he'd gotten at the store earlier today.

Ichigo shies away from the object like it's a bomb. "There's no fucking way!" he shouts, not finding the idea half as funny as Ishida obviously does.

"Well it's only fair," Ishida murmurs, voice level as he attempts to make the orange-haired loudmouth see reason.

"How's that fair?" Ichigo sputters, incredulously.

Ishida thinks that the answer to that is rather obvious. Or should be, anyway.

Smirking, Uryuu begins advancing on the other boy then, glasses gleaming menacingly in the small room's light. "I think it's about time _you_ tried getting the strawberry filling, don't you?"

**END**


	381. Every Lesson Learned

**381.**

**Title:** Every Lesson Learned  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 996  
**Warning/s: **Possible look into the future, but no spoilers I can think of.   
**Summary:** The eleventh division prepares you for life.   
**Dedication:** idiosyn and meallanmouse- thanks for your help on the photo project!  
**A/N: **Why yes, I am in a family mood today. Probably 'cuz I talked to my bro last night and it was kind of a strange, more grown-up type conversation than I'm used to having with the um, former runt. XD

* * *

She learned how to make a man choke on his own vomit from Yumichika, because the pretty shinigami knew that young girls all had to grow up some time, and that there would always be dirty rotten perverts out there who needed to choke on their _own_ fluids before they tried to make any one else choke on them first. 

She never quite understood what he'd meant by that last part, but it was still cool to know how to do something like that. Sure, she would have eventually figured out on her own that if you kick a guy in the balls hard enough _twice_, he'll vomit, but she never would have imagined that if you time it just right you can collapse a person's windpipe as the stuff is coming up.

Ikkaku taught her how to dance, because luck is a skill too and something that has to be mastered just like swordsmanship. She learned a little bit of both from him, and thankfully, as Yumichika put it, she's got more rhythm than the bald idiot and just as much enthusiasm. They both think she dances beautifully.

She's learned from life in the eleventh division that size doesn't matter, that you can be small and have the strength of men ten times bigger. But you can be small and weak too, and sparring with the rest of the members in the dojo day in and day out has taught her that there are moments when someone, anyone, can get lucky if you're overconfident or not paying attention. She's had her head shoved into a mat every now and again, but the important thing is that it's never been down for the same reason twice.

They never let her education stay one-sided either. It felt like everyone was always looking out for her in one way or another, that if someone didn't know one thing she needed to learn, someone else always did.

Kuroki-kun down in the kitchens had taught her how to sneak pastries from the commissary without being caught when she wanted them, and several lower seats showed her how to play poker and dice and to bet on the right bird when there was a cockfight in town. They taught her odds and chances and to never let some punk-ass scumbag keep from paying up after he lost.

Kuwabara-kun from the eleventh division accounting corps showed her what cigarettes tasted like and that candy was much yummier, so she should always choose that instead. He also taught her how to doctor the finance reports so they could have that kegger next Friday and not have to pay out of their own pockets for it. It had something to do with Spirituality or something, she can't remember all the details exactly.

Yumichika taught her to read, to write, to crunch numbers, to analyze words and strategy and body language, taught her to think fast, think hard, stay on top of the game and make them think you're not.

Ikkaku showed her how to be brave, to charge, to believe in herself and never look back once.

And Kenpachi, Kenpachi taught her most everything else. Taught her what a name was, what things were. He let her be small but he never let her be weak. He cuffed her on the back of the head when she made a mistake and never coddled her for her errors, never held back even when she was bloody and had tears in her eyes and couldn't see straight because it hurt too much.

He always cleaned her up and fed her afterwards, sometimes even read to her if she needed the distraction, but he never let her forget that it hurt, that she'd done something stupid to deserve whatever fool injury she'd gotten and that she'd better figure out a way--and fast-- to make it so it didn't happen again.

He made her eat her vegetables and drink her milk and bought her crayons and paper and ribbons because even though she was a fighter she was still a damned kid too, and he never wanted her to just be thought of as one thing alone when he knew she was a whole bunch of important things, when she could be whatever she wanted in any combination or number.

He'd changed her diapers when she'd needed them and bathed her and brushed her hair when it was necessary. He'd grit his teeth and done what had to be done and he told her she'd better damn well do it too, that she'd better not back out of things that needed doing just because she thought it didn't suit her or looked too hard or too easy.

And even though she's bigger now, she still has all of these things with her like she did when she was small. She remembers all her lessons and knows that she could take on the world if she had to, that she could fight it one-on-one and come out on top because she knows her shit, learned it good.

Everyone else, they look at her funny because of the way she was raised, whisper about her and what a shame it was, for such a pretty young girl to have been surrounded only by death and violence and cruelty growing up.

They would have done something about it, if they could've, they'd say. They'd have saved her from Zaraki and his thugs and put her somewhere a young lady belonged, where she could've grown up normal and gotten everything a sweet little girl should've gotten out of life.

They don't know that she really feels sorry for _them._

They don't understand anything at all.

But that's their loss, she supposes. She doesn't have time to deal with idiots—another thing Zaraki Kenpachi taught her—because she's something different from them altogether.

She's a captain of the Gotei-13 and she's got business to take care of.

Monsters to kill.

Asses to kick.

**END**


	382. Last Throw

**382.**

**Title:** Last Throw  
**Rating:** R (maybe even NC-17?)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **some GinxKira, and something that's supposed to be kind of a surprise. ;; Er?xKira, I guess?  
**Word Count:** 827  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc in a vague kind of way.  
**Summary:** Kira likes the pain.  
**Dedication:** para- LOOK WHAT YOUR SEX FACE PICTURE DID!  
**A/N: **I never thought I'd use some of the words in a story that I used here. Well, in the order I put them in, anyway. O.o Avert your eyes, young ones! Except for para, I suppose. XD Er, anyway, inspired by a drawing of Kira's sexy crying uber-uke face, and thus, I am um, responding in like.

* * *

He cries out more from surprise than pain, his shout muffled by the pillow his face is buried against as he fists the bed sheets and feels his eyes watering at the sensation of being filled so suddenly. He holds back another cry at the first thrust, manages to quell it into a breathless "Nnngh…" as he bites down on the pillow and quivers helplessly beneath the larger body pinning him down. 

His hips work reflexively, pumping into the mattress in search of friction, and soon after, he feels arms coming around his waist, lifting him up so that he's half on his knees and a rough hand can wrap around him, stroking him hard and as he lies there trying to breathe without dying at each shuddering exhale.

Kira never imagined that it would come to this between them, that he would be thrown onto the bed so angrily and with such menace. But deep down he knows the blame can only be placed on himself for his predicament, for the simultaneous pain and arousal he feels at being rendered so completely helpless like this. He'd just as well asked for it just now, begged for it with his eyes.

This is his own fault. His own filthy desires haunt him day in and day out and what else could have resulted but this?

He feels his hips bruise under the assault of calloused fingers, feels a strain in his back and the muscles in his thighs as the rhythm increases, as the sound of his partner's shallow breathing and angry grunts grow steadily, impossibly louder than the blood pounding in Izuru's ears.

The hand around him squeezes mercilessly and he feels himself arching back despite the throbbing ache in his legs, feels himself moving back towards that other body and crying out full wail this time, face no longer hidden as he shouts in half-terror and half-ecstasy, fingers clenched so tightly in the sheets that he can feel his own fingernails digging into his palms despite the fabric twisted between. He comes screaming, and can barely recognize the voice as his own.

Panting and breathless, he feels the body behind him shudder moments later, eventually feels the warm splatter of liquid inside and the steady slackening of muscles as his lover curses dumbly, a "Holy fuckin' shit," right in his ear as the weight of the other death god collapses, exhausted, atop Izuru.

The blonde's voice is hoarse, and upon uncurling his hand from the sheets and touching own face, he discovers that his eyes are still wet.

Renji rolls off of him not long after, and they both tremble as he pulls out, much gentler now than he'd been moments before.

"I'm sorry," Kira breathes, feeling suddenly very cold.

Renji sighs and lies on his back next to the blonde for a moment, looking both pissed off and resigned before he pulls Kira into his arms and rests the other vice-captain's head on his chest. "You better've savored that, you masochistic idiot," Abarai says, voice gravelly in Izuru's ear. He is annoyed and too damned tired to put up with whatever issues Kira has, at least for the moment. "You better have taken that fast, hard fuck and enjoyed every goddamned minute of it 'cuz no matter how much you think you want stupid shit like that, I ain't ever doin' that to you again, you hear me?"

Kira nods, and with vague horror, feels his eyes begin to water some more.

"You may think that's the only thing that'll get you goin', but it's just 'cuz you don't know any better, you stupid asshole," Renji continues, sounding a little sad himself now. "Think it's the only way to make you scream, I bet. That what Ichimaru make you believe after all this time?"

Tears start to fall then, and before Kira can swipe at them with his hand, he feels the pad of Renji's thumb drag over his eyes, wiping them clean.

"Che. You better've fuckin' savored every bit of that," Abarai declares again, closing his eyes and grunting. "'Cuz it was your last damn time. Next time I'm gonna be so damn sweet to you you'll be cryin' for other reasons, got it?"

Kira manages to blink away his tears at the statement this time, manages to hold them back and be a little bit less pathetic. "Sorry," he murmurs, not knowing what else to say.

Renji snorts. "Apologize to my back muscles in the morning, dumbass. Go to sleep."

Izuru wants to respond, to say something to explain himself, but before he can, Renji's arm is curling tighter around him and all he can hear is the redhead's rhythmic snoring beside his ear.

Feeling something pang deep in his heart as he lies in Renji's embrace, Kira reaches up to touch the other vice-captain's face before planting a small kiss along Abarai's jaw. "Good night."

He closes his eyes and sleeps.

**END**


	383. Light Years Ahead

**383.**

**Title:** Light-years Ahead  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yachiru, Kenpachi  
**Word Count:** 521  
**Warning/s: **Cursing, but no spoilers I can think of. Possible OOCness though.   
**Summary:** For all his impulsiveness, Zaraki Kenpachi knows how to plan ahead when it counts.  
**Dedication:** meiyanohi- welcome to MS! XD  
**A/N: **Still on that family kick, I guess. --;;

* * *

She storms into his office absolutely fuming one afternoon--it still looks like a stupid little kid type pout to him if anyone were to ask though—the eleventh division vice-captain exclaiming rather loudly, "Ken-chan! You made boys afraid of me!" 

He blinks at her accusation, before going right back to writing "fuck you" on all the paperwork that Yama-jii absolutely needs from him by this afternoon. "I didn't make boys afraid of ya," he says drolly. "You did. Last week, when ya tried out that kickin'-em-in-the-balls-twice-'n-then-makin'-'em-choke-on-their-own-vomit move Yumichika taught ya. _That's_ what scared 'em."

She puts her hands on her hips, the young teen making a sound of discontent at his smart-alecky type answer. "He was…"

"He weren't touchin' your ass," Kenpachi finishes for her. "Ya backed into him and was lookin' fer an excuse. I saw ya." Pause. "Good work, by the way."

She sighs. Maybe he's right, but that doesn't change the fact that boys are afraid of her.

"Boys are afraid of me, Ken-chan," she says again, plopping down on the corner of his desk and looking pathetic.

"I ain't afraid of ya," he offers after a moment, hoping that'll get her to shut up long enough for him to finish the doodle of him stabbing Yama-jii with a really big…well, it was supposed to have been a sword, but it turned out looking more like a spoon instead.

He mentally shrugs. Good enough.

"You don't count as a boy!" she replies, all snitty-like. He thinks to himself that after she hit puberty (or whatever it was Yumichika had called it), she started having a lot more moods than she used to.

"Sure I count," he responds patiently, mostly because he feels too old to be able to deal with this stupid shit anymore.

"But you already like me!" she adds, just to differentiate. "I want _other_ boys to like me now."

He eyes her then, and with something like vague nostalgia, remembers a time way back when, when he was the only boy she'd ever needed to like her because all the other ones were stupid and icky and weak compared to Ken-chan.

She'd been a lot easier to shut up back then too, now that he thinks about it.

He sighs. "Well, Yachiru," he starts, putting his brush down. He's using his fatherly voice now (least, that's what Ikkaku calls it), and that still manages to get her to sit up and listen to him if a lot of other things don't anymore. "If those boys 're afraid of ya, ain't that sort of a sign that they're weak and ain't worth your damned time?"

She pauses, thinking about that.

Then, slowly, her eyes widen in realization.

"Ken-chan! You made me too _strong_ for boys!"

This time, he can't help but smile at her accusation. She'd always been a pretty sharp kid.

"Damn right I did," he confirms, picking his brush back up with a certain, self-satisfied flair. "Best fuckin' thing I ever done, I do say so myself."

And if she's looking for an apology for _that_, she came to the wrong damned place.

**END**


	384. Cut Loose and Have a Little Fun

**384.**

**Title:** Cut Loose and Have a Little Fun  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, mentions of IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count:** 201  
**Warning/s: **Um. Related to the 2005 JUMP Festa images. But no real spoilers, I don't think.  
**Summary:** Vacation time in the human world leads to lots and lots of fun.  
**Dedication:** kshi- why thank you for the initial image. I haven't been able to get it out of my head ONCE. O.o  
**A/N: **GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY. 3

* * *

Shuuhei is a bit nervous, he can tell. But it's vacation time for almost everyone and why should he be nervous? It's time to relax, have fun (and sex) and not worry about a thing. 

Shuuhei's worrying.

"Um…babe?"

"Hmmm?"

"I feel… a little exposed. And my nipples are kind of cold. You sure this is what people wear in the human world?"

Yumi sighs as his lover awkwardly tugs at the fishnet barely covering his body, the fifth seat admiring the view even with all the other man's uncertainty.

"Mmm, I want to touch you right now," he says, dreamily.

Shuuhei pauses in his fidgeting at that. "What…really?"

Yumi smiles and nods. "All over. With my tongue."

The vice-captain blinks. "Huh." Thinks about it for a minute. Then, "Well, I guess the shirt's okay."

Yumi beams back at him and thinks that the female repellent that Shuuhei's outfit was clearly designed to serve as may just be the best thing he's come across in the human world yet.

Granted, the fishnet might attract other _men_ to his lover in the course of the day.

But he's not so worried about _that_.

Absently, the fifth seat wonders what Kira's making Ikkaku wear.

**END**


	385. Mourning

**385.**

**Title:** Mourning  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count:** 404  
**Warning/s: **Um. Related in part to the OVA. O.o   
**Summary:** Kira is crying again.  
**Dedication:** finnimon- AHAHAH PHOTO MANIPS RULE. XD  
**A/N: **I'm such a whore. --;; And now, now I'm going to bed. XD

* * *

"Holy fuck, Izuru, wouldja stop cryin' already? Ain't fittin' for a vice-captain, 'm tellin' ya. My vice-captain ain't cried since she was… well, since she was two." 

Ikkaku's nervous, blustering way of trying to offer comfort to the blond does exactly _nothing_, and sniffling, Kira wipes pathetically at his eyes with the backs of his hands as he becomes embarrassed _on top of_ being sad. "S-sorry," he murmurs, looking at the ground. "I just…I can't believe…"

At the sight of Kira's tears, Ikkaku receives several dirty looks from a few passersby and winces. It seems that even all the way out here, making someone as cute as Izuru cry is a crime against humanity or something. Sighing, he reaches out and pats the blond on the shoulder. "Aw, I don't mean ta yell, babe, I just…well… was it really that bad?"

Apparently that had been the exact thing he _shouldn't_ have said to get his boyfriend to stop crying. Again.

Kira resumes the crying the moment the other shinigami finishes his ill-timed question, leaving Ikkaku scrambling for a tissue or a handkerchief or _something_ so the other man can wipe his face.

Yumichika elbows Madarame in the stomach and steps in instead, dragging Shuuhei along by his puffy white half-sleeve.

"Cry as much as you'd like, Kira-kun," the fifth-seat urges, using the cuffs of his lover's clothing to wipe at the tears streaming down Izuru's face. "It was very sad."

Shuuhei winces as he's used as a human handkerchief, but doesn't make a move to withdraw for fear of…well, Yumi.

Ikkaku sighs, hands on his hips, as Yumi comforts the bald shinigami's lover with soft words and the occasional dirty look at Ikkaku.

Frowning, Madarame averts his eyes after the fifth or so dirty look. "Che. Well of _course_ he hadta shoot Yeller," he mutters under his breath. "Dog was fuckin' crazy, weren't he?"

"Shuuhei."

At the sound of his name on Yumichika's lips, the fishnet-clad vice-captain obediently cuffs Ikkaku on the head.

"Ow! Fucking… fucking trained monkey!"

Shuuhei cuffs him again, except of his own volition this time.

Ikkaku growls and goes off to sulk on the other side of the theater.

He knew… he just _knew_ that letting Yumichika choose the movie would be a bad idea.

'Cuz really. Look at Shuuhei's outfit.

It's all the convincing in the world anyone would ever need to _never _let Yumichika make decisions ever again.

**END**


	386. Looking Death in the Eye

**386.**

**Title:** Looking Death in the Eye  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 339  
**Warning/s: **Um, deathfic? But no real spoilers, I suppose.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi smiles.  
**Dedication:** Don Gao- I gave her an evil, evil drawing meme prompt. XD  
**A/N: **I love thugs. 3 Also, I don't know how death really functions in seireitei so um, me guessing. Whatever. XD

* * *

When he died it was in the middle of a field of corpses, defeated enemies he'd grabbed by the throat and dragged into the next world kicking and screaming with him. 

He died with a smile on his face.

And so Yachiru hadn't mourned, not with tears or hysterics, not even with somber despair.

She thinks about that last smile she'd seen, remembers how she'd smiled back. She'd waved at him and he'd simply grinned at her as blood had exploded everywhere in that final fight, some of it his own, some not.

He'd closed his eyes after that and sighed, like he was just going to sleep, and she'd walked over to the old man, had uncurled his fist from around his zanpakutou and used it to blow away the rest of the opponents.

The eleventh division didn't mourn. It didn't shed tears or cry out hysterically. There hadn't even been anything like somber despair.

She'd taken his coat, bloody and tattered, and thrown it over her own shoulders.

That night, as the pyre had burned Zaraki Kenpachi to ash, the bloody, bruised ranks of the eleventh division's survivors drank.

They drank and celebrated, and everyone who had ever known the deceased came and drank with them, former members, friends, enemies, family gone afar.

Injuries, curses and stories were all exchanged, but not a tear had been shed that night. Not for Kenpachi.

And as Yachiru wraps her father's jacket around her shoulders and sits in his chair today, she still hasn't cried for him. Not once.

Because she remembers his smile.

Even at his last conscious moment, he'd looked at her like he was ready to grab Death by the throat and kick its pansy ass the moment he laid eyes on it.

And remembering that anticipatory gleam in his eyes makes it all okay. She grins to herself and does her paperwork as the new eleventh division captain, thinking to herself that he'd needed a fresh challenge anyway.

He'd already kicked this world's ass centuries ago.

**END **


	387. Stronger Than One

**387.**

**Title:** Stronger Than One  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 478  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for Kyouraku and Ukitake's backstories, I suppose. --;;  
**Summary:** Ukitake Jyuushirou is strong.  
**Dedication:** swinku- MISS YOU.  
**A/N: **My brain seems dead whenever I want to write lately. Haha I blame it on MS eating my brain? XD

* * *

Sometimes he has to remind himself that Jyuushirou isn't weak. 

He knows it, deep in his heart of hearts. _Should_ know it, more importantly. He's seen the other man's strength a million times for a hundred centuries after all, has seen enemies crumble in front of him and armies destroyed as easily as breathing.

Funny how sometimes, it's the breathing that Ukitake has problems with.

At the thought, Shunsui grits his teeth just a little bit and holds Jyuushirou's hand more tightly in his own, the grip in his strong one faint and exhausted as the breath rattles in the white-haired captain's chest.

Shunsui watches over him and remembers days when Ukitake's strength has bowled him over before, when the other man has looked at him with eyes intense enough to make him feel like one of his victims-- shot through the heart.

He remembers those instances with a kind of anxiety, tries to hold onto them even as he looks down at the sick man before him now, the one who's weak and exhausted and definitely not up to destroying anyone's army today.

The eighth division captain thinks back on those times Jyuushirou has been strong and makes himself superimpose them over the image of the other man he sees now, because he has to keep believing in Ukitake, has to stay 100 assured that this isn't the big one.

That this isn't the end of the universe.

He does this a lot, he supposes, tries to block out anything bad with heartening images. The first time Jyuushirou coughed up blood, Kyouraku thought instead, of the first time he'd seen the other man—then boy—blow away every single target without breaking a sweat in kidoh class. The first time Jyuushirou collapsed, coughing into his arms, he held the other man's hand all night—just like this-- and recalled the first time Jyuushirou _pushed_ his way into Kyouraku's arms, pink-faced with alcohol, a demanding, warm fondness in his eyes as he'd wrapped around Shunsui and overwhelmed him from every angle.

Shunsui reminds himself of how strong Jyuushirou is with those memories, squeezing the other man's hand and telling himself that that strength, that amazing power this man has, will not be snuffed out tonight.

He just has to be strong himself.

He has to believe it.

And sure enough, as the hours pass and dawn begins to break, Shunsui eventually feels the hand in his squeeze back ever so slightly.

He breathes a sigh of relief at that, smiles down at Ukitake because it's another victory for them, another day when the universe can keep on existing.

"Thank you, Jyuu-chan," he murmurs, bringing their joined hands up to brush his lips across Ukitake's knuckles, "for lending me your strength."

It's moments like these when Shunsui is reminded that Jyuushirou is strong enough for the both of them.

**END**


	388. Matter of Opinion

**388.**

**Title:** Matter of Opinion  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 226  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine. Some OOCness and relatedness to BotI 15 though. O.o  
**Summary:** Kenpachi and Ikkaku disagree on something very important.  
**Dedication:** jen- thanks for letting me borrow your BotI! XD Also, to Don Gao, Ann, Vinnie, and everyone else who loves BotI and Bleach. XD  
**A/N: **CRACK inspired by the crack Vol 14 cover of Blade of the Immortal. XD

* * *

"Magatsu!" 

"Giichi!"

"Magatsu!"

"Giichi!"

"I'm yer captain, and I order ya to admit that _Magatsu_ would win, ya damn bald bastard!"

Ikkaku glares right back. "That ain't under regulations, _taichou_! So I ain't gotta agree with ya over this!" Madarame replies, crossing his arms and regarding Zaraki with something like impertinence. "Giichi would win!"

Yumichika blinks as he walks into the room and sees the two of them glowering at each other with powerful agitation, the fifth-seat able to feel their reiatsu swirling through the air around them in a dangerously challenging manner.

Turning to Yachiru, who is happily immersed in a comic book on the ground, Yumi clears his throat. "Yachiru… what are taichou and Ikkaku fighting about?" he poses, deciding that asking either caveman would only draw unwanted attention to himself right now.

Yachiru, beaming, holds up her comic book. "Blade of the Immortal!" she responds easily. "Ken-chan got volume 15 today!"

Yumichika frowns and takes the book experimentally.

Looks at the cover.

Looks at Zaraki and Madarame.

Looks back at the cover.

Then, "Oh, I see." He points to the character with the spiky hair. "Magatsu."

"Yup!"

He points to the bald character next. "Giichi."

Yachiru nods again. "Yup!"

Yumichika rolls his eyes and hands Yachiru back her comic. "I'm going to go read something gay now," he announces, before exiting the room.

**END**


	389. Curiouser and Curiouser

**389.**

**Title:** Curiouser and Curiouser  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **vaguely Ganjyu+Hanatarou  
**Word Count:** 498  
**Warning/s: **Um… vague spoilers for the OVA ending. XD  
**Summary:** Are Ganjyu and Hanatarou… naaah, they couldn't be, could they?   
**Dedication:** swinku- for letting me coerce you into drawing. XD  
**A/N: **Ahaha yes, the OVA ending kind of haunts me still. --;;

* * *

When Hanatarou trips on his way back to Ganjyu's and their food goes flying off the tray seemingly in slow motion, Ganjyu's first instinct is to reach out and wrap his arms around the little shinigami before he hits the dirt, the larger man taking Yamada's full weight onto his lap and "oofing" just a little bit when the other boy falls against him. 

Mournfully, he watches their burgers hit the ground.

But he supposes they can always get more, and shifting Hanatarou around, he manages to pull back and get a good look at the little death god. "Oi…Hana… you okay?"

Hanatarou, mortified, looks up at Ganjyu from his place entangled in his friend's lap. "Aa… yeah. I'm okay…sorry, I um…" he trails off, looking around at the fallen food and sighing before turning his gaze downward. "S-sorry, Ganjyu-san."

"Hey, no problem," Ganjyu assures him quickly, because he knows Hana frets about stupid stuff like that all the time. "Can always go'n get some more, no worries."

Hanatarou offers a shaky smile up at Ganjyu at the other man's reassurance, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I um… thanks. For um…catching me."

Ganjyu feels his lips quirking into a lopsided half-smile in response. "Urm. .. well, couldn't just let your fool self get hurt, right?" he offers, laughing awkwardly. "In that little apron number you'da probably tangled yourself up even more and rolled right into the river."

Hanatarou laughs too, sheepish. "Yeah, probably," he agrees, clearing some hair out from his face. "Should I go get more um, food?"

"Nah, it's cool," Ganjyu tells him. "Just hang out for a bit. We can grab something to eat together later, how 'bout that? Some place where they have to bring the food to _us _so you don't gotta be a walkin' hazard no more."

Hanatarou beams. "Okay!"

They look at each other for a second longer like that, and it's only after another few moments that they realize that everything around them has gone silent.

And on the tail end of that recollection, they suddenly remember that they're not alone.

The rest of the shinigami around them stare, some laughing—mostly the men—and some

outright cooing—the women and Yumichika— as the two sit at the riverbank, all wrapped up in each other—however unintentionally— like they are.

Ganjyu blushes.

Hanatarou blushes too, and hastily wiggles out of Ganjyu's arms.

The larger man, trying to regain some composure once he's not holding onto Hana anymore, does his best to glare at everyone. "Ain't nothin' to see here, people!" he shouts, waving them off. "Tch. You gonna stare at anyone and make all those innuendo-type accusations with yer eyes, might as well be Hisagi and that amazingly gay shirt he's wearin'!" he adds, crossing his arms.

There's a general murmur of agreement all around, as Ganjyu's words make a lot of sense to the gathered death gods.

Moments later, Shuuhei blinks when he suddenly feels all eyes on him. "Um…what?"

**END**


	390. And Many Happy Returns

**390.**

**Title:** And Many Happy Returns  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 712  
**Warning/s: **SMEX mentions, but no real spoilers.  
**Summary:** Kira gets to try a little different on his birthday  
**Dedication:** para- good luck on midterms! I believe in you. XD  
**A/N: **I suck for being so late, but my brain has been so dead today, seriously. O.o THIS IS NOT A GOOD FIC.

* * *

Kira tries to find his breath as he mechanically uncurls each of ten fingers from around the bed sheet knotted in his fists, heart still pounding in his chest and muscles still twitching just a bit, the shocked disbelief that's currently settled like a cloud in his mind probably the reason his synapses are still firing all over the place right now, despite the faint stickiness on his hands that tells him he should relax, that his part is over for the moment. 

He feels the body beside his stretch languorously, the shifting in the bed causing him to jostle just a bit.

"T-taichou?" he asks, voice small. "Are you um… are you okay?"

Gin's breathy chuckle makes the blond flush, and he chances a sideways glance at his captain, who is looking rather pleased as he eases himself onto his back. "My, Kira-chan," he murmurs, sounding both impressed and amused as he rotates his neck luxuriously. "Didn't think you'd take so well, ne?" he adds, moving to lick his own fingers clean.

Kira shudders at the sight and hastily averts his gaze as Ichimaru enjoys himself a moment longer.

"Na…Kira-chan, you don't look relaxed at all," Gin starts after a moment, propping himself up on an elbow and regarding the vice-captain carefully. "Did you not enjoy your present?"

Kira balks a little at the question; flushing bright red in a blush he knows goes all the way down his neck. "N-no, taichou! It was a wonderful present!" he assures the older man quickly, though at the same time, the blond desperately tries not to think back on what his captain had given him tonight, when he'd lain down on his stomach and invited Kira to take him for the first time.

Izuru believes that if he thinks about it much more, he'll only want it again, and as far as he knows, birthdays are only supposed to come once a year, despite the fact that just recalling how his captain had felt--warm and tight and ready—is enough to cause an uncomfortable stirring in his groin once again. Instantly ashamed, he does his best to think of other things, things that will subdue the increasing sense of arousal he experiences looking at his captain there beside him.

"Ne…did you have a good birthday then?" Gin questions lazily, happy upon hearing the vice-captain's positive answer.

Kira flushes deeper at the tone of his captain's voice, the one that's light and teasing and not at all unlike how it had been moments before, when the older man had thrust his hips backwards into the blond and murmured sly things to Izuru about how wonderful everything felt.

"Yes, taichou… a wonderful birthday," Kira responds a bit breathlessly, feeling stirrings in his groin and the shameful realization that he isn't quite in control of himself both at the same time.

"Na…." Gin starts, frowning. "You don't _sound_ like you had a good birthday, Kira-chan."

Reaching out, the captain smiles wickedly and touches a strand of the other man's hair, moving to tuck it behind Izuru's ear. "Why so tense then, mmm?" he asks, feigning concern.

The feel of his captain's fingers on his face make him much too hot all of a sudden, and looking down, he takes a deep breath. "I um…I…"

To his horror, his captain's eyes follow his downward as well, and chuckling lowly, Gin pats the blond's head. "Ah, my cute Kira-chan," he murmurs, voice rumbling low in his throat with something almost like fondness. "If that was the problem, all you had to do was roll back over, na? It's still your birthday for a few hours yet."

Kira blinks, eyes wide at that, and Gin settles back down anticipatorily, predicting that it will take a moment or two for his vice-captain to realize the depth of his invitation.

But when Kira does, he rolls back over atop Gin carefully, looking down at his captain with the most adorable mixture of shyness and excitement. "T-taichou? Is this okay?"

Gin chuckles at that, spreading his legs as he thinks to himself that his Kira-chan is really very cute, as well as—surprisingly—much more aggressive than his quiet nature first lets on.

What a pleasant birthday for both of them.

**END**


	391. Ikkaku vs Betty Crocker

**391.**

**Title:** Ikkaku vs. Betty Crocker  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count:** 852  
**Warning/s: **CRACK and OOCness? But yeah. Haha such is my way.  
**Summary:** Ikkaku tries to make this birthday special.  
**Dedication:** swinku- WE R EBIL 2gether. XD (Fanart still under wraps? XD)  
**A/N: **Another Kira birthday fic for the other fangirl in me. XD Kira is my pairing whore. YES.

* * *

It's five am and he's awake because he's got to get this just right… knows that it'll probably take him the whole goddamned three hours he gave himself to get this done. 

But either way, it's gonna get done.

He stands back and looks challengingly at the ingredients he's collected, the eleventh division shinigami never having backed down from a fight before and even though the circumstances are a wee bit different, he's still determined to come out of this with his reputation intact.

Rolling up his sleeves, Ikkaku glares at the bag of flour and dons Kira's cute pink apron like war armor, grabbing the recipe book as he prepares to kick some breakfast-in-bed ass.

Kira awakens long before the alarm goes off due in part by the empty bed beside him, though in all honesty he has to chalk it up to the sounds of muffled crashes and frustrated expletives coming from the direction of the kitchen this morning, and vaguely distressed, the blond gets out of bed and pads towards the noise.

When he arrives in the kitchen, there is a frying pan very plainly alight with flame on the stove, a cloud of flour floating like fog through the air, and somewhere in the middle of it all, a cursing Ikkaku wearing the blond's pink apron—the one Ikkaku calls the "fantasy porn apron" and is always trying to cop a feel under when Izuru's trying to cook.

Kira momentarily forgets that there is fire on the stove at the sight of Ikkaku in his apron.

He supposes he understands a bit now that the tables are turned, why one might equate the ruffles to fantasy porn.

But then the roar of the fire is there, reminding him that as surprisingly hot as some things are right now, there are things that are hotter, and making a small noise of panic, Kira reaches for a nearby pot cover and quickly smothers the flame, the result of which is a particularly thick cloud of black ash rolling up from under the edges of the lid.

That done, he moves over towards the window and throws it open, hoping to air out the room before the smell drifts over to the rest of the house and leaves it stinky for the rest of the day.

Madarame, hearing the noise of the window being thrown open amidst the sneezing attack the cloud of flour has unleashed upon him, turns and looks at Kira with panicked eyes. "Izuru!" And then, upon realizing that there's really no bother trying to hide it anymore, a sheepish, "Um… mornin'."

Kira watches his lover, waving smoke and airborne flour out from his face as he stands by the open window. "Morning," he responds, waiting patiently by for some sort of explanation as Ikkaku stands around in the middle of the kitchen wearing a pink apron and looking vaguely ghostlike, all covered in white powder like he is.

They look at each other for a moment.

And then Ikkaku sighs. "Um. Happy birthday."

Kira blinks at that. Then, after a second of thought, "Oh. So it is."

Ikkaku makes a face. "Che. Don't even remember the day yourself and I go through the trouble of makin' ya breakfast. Asshole."

Izuru chuckles. "Thank you. What was it?"

"Crepes, ya bastard. Crepes and fruit and an omelet, once I figured out how the eff I was gonna get the little flour lumps outta this goddamned batter." He glares down at the mixing bowl on the countertop like he wants to stab it with Hozukimaru or something and just call it a victory.

At that point, the blond forgets his polite chuckling and outright laughs at the indignant third seat. "Oh my," he manages, in between laughter, hand ineffectually cupped over his mouth.

Ikkaku scowls at that, and is glad that at least the flour is covering up the fact that his face is pretty red right now. Defeated, he sighs and begins to remove the apron, figuring that he might as well cut his losses. "Sorry it turned out like shit," he mumbles, working the knot at the back.

Izuru pauses then, eyes a bit wet with mirth as he reaches out to still Ikkaku's hand. "Morning's not over," he suggests, a bit shyly. Then, moving to run his fingers over the ruffled edges of the garment, he looks up at Ikkaku through his lashes, murmuring "Leave the apron on?"

Ikkaku blinks.

Slowly, realization begins to dawn however, and Madarame feels his lips begin to stretch into a smile. "Yeah?"

Kira nods. "Yeah."

Full out grinning now, Ikkaku leans forward and steals a kiss. "Sweet," he murmurs, dropping his hands from the apron strings. "Happy birthday, babe."

Kira wraps his arms around the taller man's neck and beams, thinking they both must look absolutely ridiculous right now. "Thank you."

Arms full of Izuru, Ikkaku can't help but throw a triumphant look over the blond's shoulder, over towards the lumpy batter bowl and the flour splattered recipe book left discarded on the counter.

He smirks.

_And that's kickin' your ass._

**END**


	392. Important Training

**392.**

**Title:** Important Training  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Chad, Urahara  
**Word Count:** 258  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Arrankar arc  
**Summary:** Chad undergoes special training at the Urahara Shoten.  
**Dedication:** Beck- I'm sorry this suuuucks. --;;  
**A/N: **It's been so long since I've written Urahara or Chad. O.o

* * *

"Um…sensei? How does this um…train me, exactly?" Chad asks warily, looking down at the dark blue store apron he's sporting as Urahara regards him critically from every angle as he wears it. 

"The apron? The apron just keeps you from getting dirty. What a silly question, Sado-kun!" the shop owner responds with a flashy wave of fan and a bemused chuckle. "It is a bit dusty in here after all."

Chad blinks. "Dusty?"

"Lesson number one!" Urahara calls, suddenly standing tall and pointing at the large high schooler in an intimidating manner. "Manual labor!"

Chad stares. "Manual…labor?"

Urahara twitters and nods. "Strength training, Sado-kun, strength training!" he assures the boy with a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Now. Your job is to move that stack of crates," he motions to a big, dusty looking pile at the back of the store, "to the front display!"

Chad stares some more. "You want me to…"

Urahara, smiling like it's plastered on permanently, nods again. "Trust me ne, Sado-kun! This is very important."

The taller man supposes he can't argue with that. Urahara is a very strong man, after all.

That decided, the burly teen moves to go lift boxes like he's been told, Urahara waving encouragingly after him as he does.

And as he watches his new temp worker get started, Urahara beams and adjusts his hat, marveling at what a convenient and fortuitous time Sado-kun has decided to come into the life of the Urahara Shoten.

Tessai has been needing a vacation for quite a while now, after all.

**END**


	393. The Longest Night

**393.**

**Title:** The Longest Night  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 997  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the back story of the eleventh division's top chairs?  
**Summary:** They aren't worried at all. Really.  
**Dedication:** Division 14 members- THE TIME HAS COME? XD Or, it's getting real close in either case. O.o  
**A/N: **So much evil in MS brewing in my brain. Needed cute to um, wash it out a little bit. Or mix with it and become a strange concoction of simultaneous evil cuteness. O.o

* * *

The first time she was sick Yumichika took charge immediately and watched over her through the night, citing the fact that he didn't trust either Kenpachi or Ikkaku's competence towards caring for children as the reason why. 

Their idea of watching over Yachiru meant tying a rope around her, wrapping it around their wrist, and tugging every so often to make sure she was still there while they napped or killed shit or did a little bit of both.

So when she'd gotten sick, gotten fussy and quiet and generally unpleasant to be around, Yumichika had stepped up. Her head was hot and she didn't say much, wouldn't eat. Just kind of blinked at whoever was holding her, looking all sorts of pathetic.

Pissed Kenpachi the hell off, really. Mostly because he hadn't known what was wrong. He'd shaken her a little bit at first, to see if that'd wake her up, but she'd only made a sick little noise in the back of her throat that had him stopping what he was doing real fast and even sort of feeling bad for it afterwards.

He wondered if maybe she needed some meat to eat or something.

Exasperated at that point, Yumichika had taken her from Zaraki and told him that no, feeding her lots of meat wouldn't fix it, it wasn't blood loss or a big bruise or even a broken bone. It was probably a cold or a flu and the best they could do was keep her body warm and her head cool and let her rest to fight it off.

Zaraki went off and killed extra stuff for meat anyway though, just in case.

He'd never known a situation where not having anything to eat would help, after all.

Ikkaku, feeling just as helpless maybe, got lots of firewood and lots of water and beat up some bastards on the roadside when they'd tried to rob him, too preoccupied to kill them properly, though he did take some of their stuff—blankets, alcohol, and a nice pendant he could maybe give Yachiru later, given that the kid kind of got entertained by shiny things every now and again—the bald man itching to keep his hands busy even though Yumichika scolded him and told him that inviting fights to their camp was the least useful thing he could do right now.

The two know-nothings thus put in their places, Yumichika had set up a comfortable place for her to lie down and rest for the night, sitting at her side and humming to her.

Ikkaku had scoffed and asked what the hell kind of good humming would do, but Yumichika kept it up anyway, and after a while Zaraki and Ikkaku let themselves relax just a bit, because it was sorta soothing after all.

From there Yumi had wiped her head with a cool cloth and didn't raise too much of a fuss for the extra effort, even after she ended up throwing up and he had to clean it off of her.

Ikkaku suspected that Yumi hadn't complained about _that_ because he'd mostly just taken her soiled clothing and held it out to the bald man, telling him to go to the river and wash the stuff out before it set.

Under normal circumstances he would've told Yumi exactly where he could shove it for trying to make him clean up vomit, but it was something to do, as gross as it was, and he'd plodded off back down to the river without a word, stepping over the unconscious bodies of the guys he'd beat up earlier before proceeding to do laundry for the second time in his life.

Kenpachi, meanwhile, was sitting off to the side in the dark, the large man silently sipping the alcohol Ikkaku had won, the reiatsu coming off of him ominous enough to scare anyone with any brains away from the area anyway.

Yumichika thought he'd felt like death right then, and as much as the big man professed that having to take care of Yachiru was a pain in the ass, Yumi had no doubt that if anyone had tried to interrupt the child's rest that night, they would have had those big hands wrapped around their throat and the life very angrily choked out of them.

None of them got any sleep that night, though Yumichika had told the two of them to try. They'd faked it of course, acting unworried as best they could and lying down on the blankets Ikkaku had stolen.

The tension Yumichika could see in their backs told him they weren't asleep, but he didn't say anything, quietly taking care of Yachiru instead.

She'd fallen asleep shivering despite Yumi's best efforts, and to this day, the pretty shinigami couldn't think of a longer night he'd had to sit through.

But when morning came, she'd blinked up at him blearily, looking tired still but not as dull. She'd rubbed at her eyes with her fist and squirmed. He'd put his hand on her forehead and breathed a sigh of relief when it wasn't hot anymore, though it was a bit clammy still.

"Good morning, Yachiru," he'd said softly. "How do you feel?"

She'd frowned at him and after a moment said, "Mmm… hungry?"

Kenpachi and Ikkaku both sat up then, acting like they'd just woken up themselves as Zaraki moved to go get some of the meat he'd made the other day while Ikkaku gathered up an armful of wood and started feeding their fire up to something that could boil a decent cup of tea.

Zaraki handed her a skewer of smoked meat not long after, calling her a dumbass brat.

Ikkaku made them tea and dangled something shiny over her, telling her she'd have to be quick enough to take it from him before she could have it.

Yumichika, laughing quietly to himself, was just relieved that everything was back to normal.

Really, those two were such softies.

**END**


	394. Fooled

**394.**

**Title:** Fooled  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou, Unohana  
**Word Count:** 826  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can think of.  
**Summary:** A day just like any other.  
**Dedication:** requested by cheloya. Also for shinigamikender- YAYZ GANXHANA PRON. XD  
**A/N: **The prompt was_: "Hanatarou- April Fools". _Also doubling as his birthday fic. XD

* * *

He never really expects much for his birthday given that it's not really that big of a deal, but he can't help but feel a little bit disappointed when the alarm clock goes off that morning and Ganjyu rolls over with a grunt, the other man slapping ineffectually at the ringing machine until Hanatarou sighs and moves on top of him, reaching over the larger man until he gets the clock in his hands and can turn it of manually. 

"Ganjyu… wake up," he murmurs gently, shaking the other man. "It's time to get ready to go."

He doesn't know why he'd expected anything, maybe a "Good morning, happy birthday," of some sort, especially knowing how Ganjyu is in the mornings, half-conscious and growly.

Predictably, Ganjyu rolls until Hana is squished partially underneath him, the bigger man wrapping and arm around Yamada and grunting. "Five more minutes…"

Hanatarou sighs and extricates himself from his lover gently. "I'll wake you in five more minutes, then, 'kay?" he says, patting Ganjyu's arm before changing into his uniform and going to start breakfast.

The morning progresses like that rather normally, Hanatarou going in to wake Ganjyu up five minutes later and having to wrestle himself away when the other man sleepily makes a second grab for him and asks for five _more_ minutes.

Eventually the smell of food gets Ganjyu up and Hanatarou rushes them through their morning routines before they leave to work together, Ganjyu heading to his office as newly appointed eleventh division third chair and Hanatarou to the fourth division hospice.

No one says anything about his birthday all day at work either, which only surprises him in that it seems Unohana-taichou has forgotten too, and she usually at least ruffles his hair and smiles at him before wishing him a happy birthday, has done exactly that for the entire time he's worked under her.

He sighs and does his work regardless though, because really, it's been such a busy few weeks and he can't expect people to sweat the little things. Maybe he can get back early enough so that he and Ganjyu can have a little dinner together—that would be nice.

He spends the day restocking medical kits for field agents mostly on his own, stuck in a dark supply room marking off quotas on painkillers and energizers and emergency reiatsu boosters.

By the time he's done the day is almost gone and he supposes it really can't be helped, he's not anyone important like a captain or a second or third chair, who everyone remembers from the moment they see them.

When he steps out of the supply room, closing the door up behind him, he's surprised to see Unohana-taichou there, passing him by in the hallway.

"Good evening, Hanatarou," she greets, calm and lovely and serene as ever.

He smiles at her. "Good evening, taichou."

"Would you please come with me for a moment, Hanatarou? I need a little help downstairs," she asks, gently.

He blinks at her. "O-of course, taichou!"

He follows her down to the storage floor, obedient and willing despite his sinking heart. At this rate, he's not even going to get to have dinner with Ganjyu either. Well, he supposes that's that. Maybe they can eat together tomorrow.

At least they'd had breakfast together this morning, as groggy as the larger man had been.

That decided, he trails after his captain towards the big room where they keep extra clean bandages wondering what could possibly be down here that taichou would need.

She opens the door for him into a dark room and he nods in thanks.

When the light suddenly turns on he nearly jumps out of his skin in surprise.

When everyone in the room shouts "Happy Birthday!" he actually does, but luckily enough, two strong, familiar arms wrap around him, keep him from falling like always.

"Che, bet you thought I forgot, didn'tcha?" Ganjyu murmurs, pulling Hanatarou against his chest as he rests his chin on the smaller shinigami's shoulder. "Never have any faith in me, do ya, punk?"

Hanatarou feels his heartbeat automatically increase at the sound of that voice in his ear, and turning slightly, he looks at Ganjyu, feeling the corners his lips quirking upwards into a small smile, momentarily forgetting everyone else in the room. "Ganjyu…" he laughs, sheepishly, cheeks flushed. "I did think you'd forgotten."

Ganjyu winks. "Yeah, well. April fools, babe. Gotcha," he taunts, not unkindly, before stealing a quick kiss. "Now c'mon, neesan made ya cake. And the candles technically, but I ain't gonna let her use those. 'Cuz, well, you know. They probably blow up."

Hanatarou laughs and nods, letting his lover take him by the hand.

And as Ganjyu pulls the little shinigami into his lap, seating them at the head of a table laden with cake and presents, Hanatarou can't help but think that this is definitely better than anything he could have expected.

**END**


	395. Ribbons and Curls

**395.**

**Title:** Ribbons and Curls  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count: **139  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but rampant OOCness. XD  
**Summary:** Kenpachi can't believe his…eye.  
**Dedication:** sophiap- the second request on my other lj.  
**A/N: **The prompt was: _"Yachiru- Unexpectedly Girly"_.

* * *

Kenpachi walks into the room and stares. 

Cocks his head to the side a little bit.

Stares some more.

He blinks when his eyeball feels a little bit dry, and when the scene in front of him doesn't change even after that, he grunts, turns around, and heads off in search of a beer or ten.

Ikkaku, embarrassed as all hell, drops the brush from his fingertips, causing Yachiru to pout up at him for her half-done pigtails. "Baldie!" she cries, impatient for him to finish. "What're you doin'!"

Ikkaku blushes a little. "Er…"

Yumichika, chuckling, sets the mirror he'd been holding up for them down and reaches for the brush and the ribbons himself. "I'll finish your hair for you, fukutaichou," he soothes happily. "Besides do you really want your hair done by someone who doesn't have any?"

**END**


	396. Good Health and Longevity

**396.**

**Title:** Good Health and Longevity  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ukitake, Kaien  
**Word Count:** 323  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Kaien's never seen his captain defeated.  
**Dedication:** kaeruchan- the next request on my lj. XD  
**A/N: **The prompt was: "_Kaien- Oranges"_. Haha I don't write Kaien all that much, hopefully um… I don't suck at it. O. o

* * *

Kaien peels fruit for his sick captain when he goes to visit him in his hospital room, cheerful like nothing's wrong when he shows up in the doorway with a basketful of oranges and some great stories about what Kiyone and Sentarou managed to pull off today in taichou's absence, those crazy kids. 

Ukitake appreciates his subordinate's efforts—which are not unlike Kyouraku's—to minimize the breadth and depth of his constant illnesses. It's nice that the vice-captain has so much faith in the white-haired man that he considers his leader's being sick as merely a small irritation, a little thing not worth any real consequence. He treats Ukitake like nothing's different at all, hospital bed or office desk.

Kaien has never seen his taichou defeated by anything after all, and as he tells the other man, he's definitely not going to pay any mind to a bug so small he can't even see it when he squints.

So he sits at the white-haired captain's bedside, peeling fruit and talking until Ukitake smiles at him, until his captain realizes that yes, this tiny little hindrance isn't going to get him, not today, not ever. They sit just like that for a good amount of time and they chat a little bit about everything, and by the time the thirteenth division captain has finished a good orange and a half all on his own, a part of him is capable of forgetting he was ever sick in the first place. That for just a while, he could make his illness feel like nothing.

And that's what Kaien's been waiting for, what he's always waiting for when he pays his captain these sickbed visits.

He takes Ukitake's smile as an acknowledgement.

And Ukitake supposes that in a way, it is.

Because it's at moments like those when he can believe it too.

That he's not going to be beat.

Especially not by something so small.

**END**


	397. Handicapable

**397.**

**Title:** Handi-capable  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ulquiorra, Grimmjow  
**Word Count:** 261  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the current Arrankar arc.  
**Summary:** Ulquiorra doesn't make life easier for Grimmjow.  
**Dedication:** swinku- next request! Also, for Joanne- happy birthday, I know you like evil! XD  
**A/N: **The prompt was: _"Grimmy- Thuggery, Uncouth"_. Ahaha everyone has Grimmjow love lately. XD

* * *

"That's disgusting," Ulquiorra murmurs, when he sees Grimmjow picking at the scabbed-over scar that Tousen's blade had left when it severed his arm from his body. 

The other Arrankar snarls at him, flicking dried, flaky bits of skin and blood in his general direction. "Fuck off, small fry," he growls.

Ulquiorra thinks it's a pity that such a powerful being has obviously let himself degenerate to the lowest common denominator of thug behavior, though Aizen-sama says he can't complain at all about it because the beauty of his endeavors here lies in never knowing how his children are going to turn out beforehand, of always getting to marvel at the wide range of personalities and abilities he gets when he brings them into the world.

Ulquiorra is of the opinion that someone as uncouth and vile as Grimmjow never needs to be brought into the world, much less have the ability to earn any of Aizen-sama's appreciation, but if his leader wishes to keep the unruly Arrankar alive and around—despite his noticeable handicap—then Ulquiorra has no place to object.

He can, however, make Grimmjow wish he was dead. Just a little bit.

With something _almost_ like a smirk, Ulquiorra tosses a new—specially tailored—pair of hakama at his cohort. "For you," he says, dryly.

Grimmjow blinks, before catching the pants with his one arm. "The hell…"

Ulquiorra turns to leave then, eyes tinged with amusement. "Velcro," he explains. "Thank Aizen-sama later, for his thoughtfulness regarding your condition."

As he exits the room, Grimmjow's enraged curses follow him out.

**END**


	398. Taking the Bull by the Horns

**398.**

**Title:** Taking the Bull by the Horns  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxIl Forte  
**Word Count:** 454  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the beginnings of the Arrancar arc.  
**Summary:** Gin teaches Il Forte about power.  
**Dedication:** shinigamikender, who requested it on my personal journal.  
**A/N: **The prompt was: _"Il Forte- Control"… _haha I always end up having him molested by Gin, don't I? XD

* * *

Pretty ones who aren't strong enough are some of Ichimaru's favorite things. 

Especially when they don't know how weak they really are and they have to be shown, have to be reigned in and taught how to act properly.

Il Forte doesn't play well with the others because his head is too big and his skill not quite enough to back it up, and when Aizen, concerned for his young one, asks Gin for his help, Gin readily agrees, smiling at little Il Forte and telling him, "Let's get along, na?"

He shows him first, how powerless he really is. Hands wrapped around the young Arrankar's hips, his teeth on his shoulder and a sharp cry or two when he bleeds, is all it really takes.

Gin teaches him the limits of his own strength in this manner, shows him the difference between how much someone can bleed without dying, how much _he_ can bleed to feel good.

And Il Forte learns, however reluctantly, that pretty ones who aren't strong have to use other means to get what they want.

They can control in other ways after all, can take charge in a manner that doesn't involve strength so much as power. He discovers that you can be painstakingly gentle and still rule with an iron fist. Force and authority aren't synonymous, after all.

And after many painful, wonderful weeks of instruction, Gin finally sits back and licks the blood clean from his fingers, grinning and just the tiniest bit proud when he tells Il Forte, "There now, I think you're finished."

Il Forte bows his head at Ichimaru-sama, grateful as any student can be.

"No, Ichimaru-sama. I've just begun."

Gin laughs at that and touches his pupil's hair, thinking that such a pretty little one has the potential to gather lots of power in his two lovely hands, if he's learned well enough, if he remembers all the things Ichimaru has seen fit to show him.

The strong should fight.

But the powerful should control.

The moment Il Forte forgets that, his life will be forfeit.

And while Gin would love to see this pretty one around for a long time to come, while he wouldn't mind having that attractive body and that lovely, wicked face to look down upon in his bedroom chamber, he supposes, that ultimately, the choice is up to Il Forte.

How well his cute little student learned, the educated decisions he will or will not make for himself, are all the things that will be the difference between violent death and violent glory for sweet Illy-chan.

Which one he wants for himself is all in his own hands.

Because really, if you asked _him_, Gin doesn't mind either.

**END**


	399. Selfesteem is for Everybody

**399.**

**Title:** Self-Esteem is for Everybody  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Renji, Kira  
**Word Count:** 255  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the academy special chapter?  
**Summary:** Kira doesn't think Renji has the stones.  
**Dedication:** para! 33  
**A/N: **The prompt was: _"Kira Izuru- Cynical"_.

* * *

"You can not." 

"I can too!"

"You _can't_!"

"Why the hell are you so damn convinced about me already eh?"

"Because… it's _you_."

"The hell did you get so cynical, you damn bastard?"

"Right about the time _you_ got so deluded."

Renji scowls at his classmate, revved up by the challenge that's presented itself. "You don't fuckin' think so, huh?"

Kira shakes his head. "Not in a million years."

"Che. Well. You obviously don't know me at all, if you think I care what these other assholes think of me."

The blond sniffs. "Prove me wrong then."

"Gimme the damn thing then," Abarai responds in kind, eyeing the article of clothing in question. "I'll wear it all damn day."

Kira smirks. "Will you?" he drawls, sounding just the right amount of skeptical as he hands Renji the pink-and-white sakura patterned kimono.

The redhead snatches it from him with a flourish and throws it over his shoulders. "Damn fuckin' right I'll wear it all day."

And he does.

Which proves Izuru wrong of course, but the fact that Renji's uncomfortable at everyone looking at him and speculating and laughing a little bit the whole day he has it on makes it all worth it in the end, because Kira doesn't mind being wrong if his classmate has to make an absolute ass out of himself in order to get them there in the first place.

Besides, Kira thinks with something vaguely like wicked laughter, Renji looks kind of cute, all wrapped up in pink like that.

**END**


	400. BFF

**400.**

**Title:** BFF  
**Rating:** PG-13 for swearing.  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Yumichika  
**Word Count:** 992  
**Warning/s: **Vague (but not really) spoilers for Ikkaku and Yumichika's backstory.  
**Summary:** Only Ikkaku gets to call Yumi those names, goddammit.  
**Dedication:** tsukishine- requested over at my other journal, and I'm happy, because eleventh division love to commemorate the 400th drabble is YAYZ.  
**A/N: **The prompt was: _"Ikkaku- Being Friends with Yumi". _Um, I honestly couldn't think up anything for the other prompt I was given that was in the top seven responses. Something about Kon and soap? I'll meditate on it some more and hopefully be less lame and come up with something for the next one? Yes. Though…four hundred is a tempting place to stop. O.o

* * *

"God you're such a fag," Ikkaku mutters when Yumi stops in front of a shop window to flutter at the pretty kimonos he sees displayed behind the glass. 

"I look good in floral prints," Yumichika sniffs, still gazing dreamily over the clothes a second longer—probably just to piss Ikkaku off—before turning to follow again, completely unrepentant for his behavior.

"Dunno why the hell I keep you around," the bald man mutters, slinging his pack over his shoulder more securely as they walk. "Try'n be a little more manly, will ya? Get us in trouble all the time, actin' the way you do."

The prettier man snickers at the quip because it has no basis. Ikkaku wasn't complaining about how unmanly he was yesterday after all, when Yumichika had killed three bandits on the roadside during the fight Ikkaku had picked with them, all the while looking just as good as he does now.

"Look," Ikkaku says after a moment, pausing when he sees a bar. "We got a pretty good haul yesterday on account of the fight I provoked. If you'd just, you know, tone it down a bit maybe we could stop around here'n enjoy the good luck for once, ya know? Try not to attract so much damn attention to ourselves."

Yumichika almost reminds Ikkaku that he's usually always the one who throws the first punch that gets them in trouble, but he's learned in their considerable time together that riling up Madarame with words will simply increase the chances that his bald companion will get them thrown out of town later tonight, for drunken and disorderly (and highly costly property damaging) behavior.

"I'll do my best," he says instead, forcing himself to sound marginally contrite without breaking out laughing first.

Ikkaku looks at him warily. "Yeah. Well. Not like I expect ya to be perfectly well-behaved," he concedes after a moment. "Fruity by nature or somethin', right?"

"Demonically charming," Yumichika corrects, before letting Ikkaku lead him into the bar.

Ikkaku snorts. "Yer a damn arrogant, incredibly gay bastard is what ya are." And he leaves it at that, because the smell of alcohol is in the air now, and nothing distracts him better, though a nice ass on a cute girl comes real close.

They take two seats at the bar and Ikkaku orders some disgusting, murky liquid that probably burns holes in his stomach every time he drinks it while Yumi just orders a glass of plum wine and hopes that the dishware they use in this establishment is clean.

Satisfied with that, Ikkaku downs a good half of his drink when he gets it and looks forward to a peaceable evening.

It lasts for about thirty seconds.

Two half-drunk farm-hand looking types amble up to them then, Ikkaku eyeing them from the side as they box out around Yumi, snickering at the smaller man and his pretty clothes.

Madarame rolls his eyes. Like a fuckin' pair of moths to a flame.

"Hey there, sweetheart… buy you a drink?"

Yumi gives a prissy little sniff at that—really, the sight and sound of it are so damn girly he only has himself to blame for shit like this—before responding with a, "I'll buy my own, thank you."

There's a pregnant pause when the two, while still drunk, realize that the response wasn't quite as high pitched as it should have been.

"Oi… she's a…"

"…he."

Another pause.

And then they blush, glower, and glare in that order, trying to blame their mistake on Yumichika.

Ikkaku sighs internally. Not again. The damned prissy little _fuck_…he's so…

"Damned prissy little _fuck_…" one of the drunkards rumbles after a moment, pride injured upon having been seen blatantly hitting on a man in a public place.

"Fruity little_ fag_," the other one adds, similarly incensed amidst his buzzed state.

Ikkaku doesn't know why it bothers him so damn much, because he'd been thinking the same things just a few moments ago, but before he can stop himself his fist is flying out sideways of its own volition, clocking the first man in the chin hard enough to send him reeling, to make him barrel into his comrade with a surprised yelp.

Ikkaku follows through by getting up from the bar despite the bartender's protests and punching the second guy in the gut for good measure, elbowing him in the face after he bends double and then kicking his feet out from under him.

The first guy, recovering from that initial punch, moves to sneak up behind Ikkaku and grab him from behind, but Yumi winks at the bartender and 'borrows' a particularly hefty looking bottle full of wine before swinging it without hesitation at the back of the would-be assailant's head. It shatters and sends a good spray of liquor everywhere, soaking down the front of Yumi's clothes—tragically-- though it floors the guy pretty good.

Ikkaku, dragging his groggy opponent back up by the collar of his shirt, wraps an arm around his neck and gets him in a solid choke-hold before turning them both to face Yumichika. "Fuckin' bastard," the bald man breathes to his defeated foe, disgusted. "Shit like that…ain't any of your damn business, is it?"

"Aaagh… no… not my business! Sorry!" the man gasps hastily, when he feels Ikkaku's hold around him tighten just a little bit, enough to make it very close to dangerous. "I'm sorry!"

"Che. Damn well better be," Madarame growls at that, before tossing the bleeding bastard down on the ground where he belongs.

It takes him a moment to realize that Yumi is absolutely beaming at him.

He blinks. "The hell is that look for?"

The pretty man laughs. "Nothing."

Pause. "Er… your clothes got all fucked up."

Yumi twitters. "I guess I'll just have to buy some new ones."

Che. Figures.

Ikkaku grumbles incredulously to himself and moves back to the bar to finish his drink. "Damned fruitcake."

**END**


	401. Breathless

**401.**

**Title:** Breathless  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 380  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary: **Kyouraku only likes hearing Jyuushirou gasp under certain circumstances.  
**Dedication:** meiyanohi- because I am asshole and SUCK BAD. --;;  
**A/N: **Um. I thought I was going to stop. But I guess not? --;;

* * *

Times like these are the only ones when he likes to hear Jyuushirou gasp, when he likes to hear the other captain sigh and pant, struggling to find air in his lungs with which to breathe. 

It's only at moments like now where the sound is pleasant to Shunsui's ears, when he can smile and lean in close and steal a little more of his precious Jyuu-chan's breath right from his lips, soft, slow kisses and languid, knowing touches all working in tandem to get these results, this lovely pink flush on Ukitake's cheeks and the way he takes big gulps of air and clings a little tighter to Kyouraku, nuzzling the taller captain's ear and murmuring his name in broken moans as Shunsui wraps around him just a little bit closer.

"Is it too much?" he whispers, sweetly into his Jyuu-chan's ear while one hand idles in the other man's hair, fingers gently massaging Ukitake's scalp. He smiles when he says it, because Jyuushirou's eyes flutter open then, his hands loose fists in the sheets at his sides.

"Mmm, you think I can't take _this_?" the white-haired man asks when he regains himself a little, allowing a slow smile up at his lover between quiet pants. With eyes twinkling just so, he reaches up to cup Shunsui's face, to trace his fingers along the other man's strong jaw line, his touch familiar and confident even as he lies beneath Kyouraku, half out of breath and deliciously naked. "I'm not as weak as you think, Shun," he teases, leaning up to press a challenging kiss to the other man's lips, firm and demanding and just the slightest bit amused at his lover's presumptions.

Kyouraku shudders now—his turn to be left breathless. "Weak? Never, Jyuu-chan," he says, happily flushed as he touches his nose to the other captain's.

Jyuushirou's eyes shine back up at him and Shunsui feels his heart skip a beat, feels everything inside him stop for just a moment when he looks down at the other man and his confident smile.

When he's regained his senses, he grins and presses a kiss to Ukitake's forehead.

"Ah, my Jyuu-chan," he murmurs, lips feather soft against Jyuushirou's skin, "did I ever tell you that you steal my breath away?"

**END**


	402. Free Porn

**402.**

**Title:** Free Porn!  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly KenseixShinji, Lisa  
**Word Count:** 603  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the post Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Lisa channels Nami.  
**Dedication:** meiyanohi- and with this, my groveling is done! XD  
**A/N: **Um. We don't know lots about Kensei. SO…I'm guessing? PLUS I AM LAME. Sorry! --;;

* * *

He really hates how that fucker smiles sometimes, like he knows something Kensei doesn't know. 

Creeps him out, really, makes him flush and look away and wonder what a good time to knife the bastard would be.

Lisa looks at him from over the rim of her porn and sniffs, like she knows something too, but then she ignores him like he isn't worth the time and at least he has _that_ from her, 'stead of always having to deal with an all-too-smug grin and the feeling like every move he makes is being watched.

Don't get him wrong, Kensei respects Shinji, has to, given how strong the asshole is, but he doesn't like the feeling that he's being laughed at all too well.

When he complains about it, Lisa calls him an idiot.

Kensei calls her a bitch.

And that's that.

But Shinji grins at him and doesn't really say much of anything, and all of a sudden all the words get caught in Kensei's throat when he sees that stupid smile, and the best he can do after that is scowl and scoff and look away.

It makes the other Vizord twitter, and Kensei swears to god one day he's going to slam the skinny little fuck up against a wall one-handed and pound him good.

Lisa says that's just a precursor to copious amounts of angry sex—even shows him some pictures that burn scars into his brain to illustrate.

He calls her a bitch again and punches a hole into a nearby tree and tells her not everything is about porn, goddammit.

She smirks at him and shows him pictures until he goes away, and when he passes Shinji, the twerp snickers and winks at him and it makes him feel like he's five or some shit like that, because apparently the blonde and the bitch know everything and he doesn't know jack.

He's going to snap one day, he thinks, and really pin that skinny bastard to something and fuck him up.

Would have done it a long time ago, probably, except that he sometimes thinks that that's exactly what the smiling idiot is waiting for.

Which is probably the only reason why he hasn't done it yet.

"Naaa, is something wrong, Kensei-san?"

"Shut the fuck up, bastard."

Hirako laughs, short barks of delighted amusement at the rude answer. "My apologies."

Kensei scowls and looks away, face red. "I'm goin' to my room."

"Haaai! Have fun doing whatever it is you do in there, ne?"

The larger Vizord makes a strangled noise of frustration in the back of his throat and storms off without another word.

Lisa listens to Hirako's laughter and Kensei's grumbling disbelief at the exchange, flipping idly to another page in her yaoi doujinshi as she does.

Smirking, she adjusts her glasses and thinks that those two really are pretty by-the-book as far as the standard type males go in these types of situations.

Though she supposes, if it gets her some real life porn in the near future, then it's all well and good and she can't complain about how they choose to go about things, as juvenile as it may be.

Besides, if things keep going like they are, she'll probably have exactly what she wants inside the next week or two, no sweat.

And as loud-mouthed and retarded as Kensei has been lately, she can't help but think that the free porn will more than make up for the troubles he's caused her regarding the issue as a whole.

Especially if she can tape it and sell it for a tidy profit.

**END**


	403. A Simple Hello

**403.**

**Title:** A Simple Hello  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yoruichi, Byakuya, Urahara  
**Word Count:** 970  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers by relation for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** related to #365 (Simple Forgiveness)- Yoruichi drags Byakuya into the human realm.  
**Dedication:** Sophiap- you are a better person than I, madam.  
**A/N: **Figured I should do something with Byakuya since he's occupying more and more of my thoughts lately, oddly enough. Charming bastard. XD

* * *

He wants to glare at her because this is ludicrous, because there's no point to this and the clothes he's wearing feel funny and kind of scratch and really, it's not that big a deal that they need to do this, go traipsing around unannounced after all this time and… 

…and…

…he doesn't know what to say.

They're minutes, maybe seconds away, and he has no clue as to what he's going to say.

She tugs him along by the hand and laughs at him with her eyes— _you big baby— _as they move, he adjusting the collar of his shirt-type garment— they called it a polo or something earlier, though he thought that that was the name of sport and not clothes—pulling it away from his throat in an awkward manner every few minutes and wondering why everything in this world seems to need to fit much tighter than it does back in seireitei.

He tries his best to glare back at Yoruichi when she throws those smug looks over her shoulder at him, but he has a feeling it comes across as more profoundly huffy than intimidating— really, when did he start acting like he was two years old? He hadn't even done that when he _was_ two— and after he realizes that he's not scaring her into giving up her crazy idea, he sighs and follows in a resigned manner, the denim on his legs scratching in a way much stranger than the flowing hakama he's used to feeling against his skin.

Everything about this is strange and uncomfortable, he thinks. If Yoruichi wasn't the one who was pulling him quite forcibly by the wrist, he probably would have retreated full out, popped in a piece of Soul Candy and been done with this ridiculous gigai in these ridiculous clothes—done with this whole ridiculous world.

Whether Urahara is here or not—it doesn't matter anymore, does it?

Their ties had been cut long ago, when his friend disappeared without a word, a hundred years gone and not even a letter, a clue for Byakuya to hold in his hand and say goodbye with.

A century without a word doesn't mean barging into someone's home unannounced and acting like nothing happened at all, though Yoruichi might think otherwise.

Granted, it worked for her. But still.

Byakuya's not quite as… charming as she is, he supposes.

Besides, isn't this sort of thing very much different for men? There can't be hugging and easy laughter, can't be slipping into conversation like nothing's changed and an immediate picking-up-from-where-we-left-off.

Men, Byakuya thinks, are much more easily wounded creatures. Pride might have something to do with it.

He foresees lots of awkward silences and maybe polite conversation about how the weather's been in seireitei if it gets that desperate.

Kisuke can't possibly have a thing to say to him after a hundred years, after all. Byakuya can barely think of what he's going to say himself, when he sees his old friend.

"Yoruichi…maybe this isn't a good idea…" he starts again, hating that he sounds so ridiculous when he talks to her about it.

She snorts. "Che. Too late, Byakuya-bo, we're already here, hmm?" she declares, stopping short in front of a small building, in front of which stands a large man wearing a blue apron and rather single-mindedly moving rather heavy looking boxes.

Byakuya blinks and looks up to read the sign.

_Urahara Shoten_.

And there it is.

The thing that Urahara left everything else behind for— without a backwards glance.

He finds himself resenting the tiny shop a bit when he looks at it as it is here, even though a rational part of himself says that there's more to Kisuke's leaving than this rickety little business, that there has to be.

But then again, Kisuke has always been very frivolous, perhaps as an offset to his impressive brilliance.

Swallowing, the sixth division captain looks at Yoruichi out of the corner of his eye. She looks back and winks, before waving at the man in the apron. "Yo, Tessai!"

"Ah, Yoruichi-dono!" the man exclaims, straightening immediately when he sees them. "Welcome back, Yoruichi-dono!"

"Ah, good to be back," she responds pleasantly, before putting her hands on her hips. "Kisuke around?"

"I'll fetch him immediately," Tessai responds, adjusting his glasses before bowing and ducking into the store.

Yoruichi turns to Byakuya then, hands still on hips. "Well?" she asks, looking him over critically (and making him feel very young in the process). "You ready?"

"No," he says, honestly.

She grins. "Too bad."

"Yoruichi-saaaan!"

The sound of a cheerful voice from the doorway makes his head spin up towards the shop's little porch immediately, and for a moment, he forgets everything.

Even his trepidation.

It really is Kisuke.

The shop-owner pauses two steps out the door himself, blinking from under the brim of his ridiculous hat when he sees that Yoruichi isn't alone.

The two men stare at each other from across the expanse for a moment, and all is silent.

Dread wells up in the sixth division shinigami's stomach at that, and swallowing, he almost sputters something about the pleasant weather.

Luckily, Urahara speaks first.

Face stretching into a slow grin, the blonde removes his hat, touching it to his chest.

"Well I'll be damned. Byaku-bo!"

And then it's a flash, a fragment of a second really, before Byakuya is suddenly in a fierce headlock, his hair being ruffled within an inch of its life as Kisuke whoops and laughs and gives him no quarter. "Byaku-bo, how are ya!"

Wide-eyed and disbelieving at the sudden turn of events, no one is more surprised than Kuchiki Byakuya when he feels his mouth start to quirk into a small, breathless smile at his friend's enthusiastic—and more importantly, familiar-- greeting.

"Hello, Kisuke."

**END**


	404. Squeaky Clean

**404.**

**Title:** Squeaky Clean  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yuzu, Kon  
**Word Count:** 487  
**Warning/s: **No major spoilers I can imagine…  
**Summary:** More frightening than Hollows or even the Arrankar- prepubescent girls.  
**Dedication:** Requested by wrekar. Also, for  
**A/N: **Another prompt from my lj. I didn't get to this one when I should have though, because it got me SO STUCK. The request was: _"Kon – Soap"._ Um. The results are SUCKY! ;; I had no clue what to write, I think it shows. At least it's DONE tho. --;;

* * *

The soap had been bad. 

_Horrible_.

Ichigo's crazy sister had taken a look at him in dismay one day, fretting over the dirt that had gathered on his fur and wondering how it _possibly_ could have gotten there, when Postaff had been sitting in her room doing nothing else for weeks.

She'd promptly decided to wash him.

Soap in his ears, his mouth, his…well. There had been soap everywhere, in short.

He'd choked on it, gotten it in his eyes, cried a little as she'd scrubbed him mercilessly clean.

No torture on this earth could be greater than a bath, he thinks, the stuffed lion currently sitting, wet and miserable, atop the washer while she goes off in search of a towel to dry his surface off with.

He thinks about moving to escape when she disappears farther into the washroom for a moment, humming to herself as she grabs a fresh towel from a cabinet.

But it's too late, and he's really too heavy to move at a respectable speed like this, wet and soaked through to the point that it's hard to even sit up.

Head drooping to the side, Kon allows two lonely tears to fall from his eyes as Yuzu returns triumphant, towel in hand.

"Postaff, don't you love feeling nice and clean?" she asks sweetly, before wrapping him in an evil towel of doom and drying him like she's trying to _kill_ him.

He'd been wrong. He knows that now.

Towel drying is _far_ worse an evil to have to endure than a simple bath as it involves friction and the feeling of _burning_ to death as she rubs at him, all the while humming like it's the most normal thing in the world to attempt to flay him alive.

Luckily it ends a few minutes later, and while his fur is sticking up on end he's survived the ordeal (miraculously), and that has to count for something.

Tossing the towel into the hamper, Yuzu pauses and stands back, examining her freshly cleaned stuffed lion critically. Seemingly satisfied, she picks Kon up with the intention of dressing him up in something pretty and putting him back on her windowsill.

He breathes a silent sigh of relief at that. The horror has finally ended.

Except Yuzu stops once she has him in arm, frowns when she discovers he's still dripping, some of the water having leaked into his very stuffing and making her toy weigh twice as much as it should.

"Oh no, Postaff!" she exclaims, worriedly. "You're not all dry yet."

Kon has a bad feeling about this.

Sighing, Yuzu pats his head in an apologetic manner before opening the dryer door. "Ah, this should help!" she exclaims cheerfully, throwing him in a dark, metal hole of some sort.

Kon bites his lip and tells himself that whatever it is, it can't be as bad as the towel dry.

It _can't._

Right?

**END**


	405. Traffic

**405.**

**Title:** Traffic  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ichigo, Rukia, Isshin  
**Word Count:** 620  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the post SS arc, lots of OOCness and crack.  
**Summary:** The Kurosaki family and Rukia go to Disneyland! Or try to.   
**Dedication:** Jen, Yoshi, Issei, Beck, Greg, and all our other drivers. You are amazing. XD  
**A/N: **In honor of the 405 freeway here in LA. DEVIL!

* * *

"ARGH STOPPIT." 

Isshin pauses at beer bottle number 56, right before taking it down and passing it around.

Ichigo, hands wound in his hair and _pulling_ just a little bit, twitches when there's finally silence in the car.

Isshin pouts. "I was almost done!"

Ichigo twitches again, probably due to the fact that his father's voice—after having to listen to the man sing all the way down from 99 bottles of beer on the wall—has kind of been grating on his last nerve.

"You were on _fifty-six,_ you bastard," Ichigo snarls, wishing his walkman hadn't run out of batteries on the _plane_.

In the backseat, Yuzu is dozing and Karin is listening to music. And right in the middle of it all, Rukia sits, too busy enjoying Ichigo's torment to say anything and not tired enough to nap. When he cranes his neck a little bit he can see her smug face in the rear-view mirror, and he swears if he could reach back there without dislocating his shoulder he'd choke her a little bit.

She probably knows it too, because that just increases her amusement.

Even more than throwing peanuts at the back of his head during the entirety of the trip from the plane ride across the ocean, apparently.

He thinks he'd be more excited about a trip to America if the traffic didn't suck so bad and he had no interest _whatsoever_ in visiting Disneyland.

There's a Disneyland in _Tokyo_ for god's sake. The hell are they out in California for?

And _how long have they been in this fucking traffic_?

He swears that they've been sitting for two hours and have gone just as many miles, the small rental car packed with Kurosakis (and one Kuchiki) moving so slowly they might as well be parked.

How do Americans travel in this shit?

No wonder they're always so damned angry.

Ichigo thinks that if he'd started running an hour and a half ago, he would already be at the damned Disneyland hotel by now.

And he would have done it too.

If the people here weren't so damn scary.

In the span of their short, short time in California traffic, the family had thus far experienced one near-death car crash that involved a woman on her cell phone in an SUV the size of Japan, barreling down the road at them thirty miles over the speed limit as the lady was trying to do her make-up with her other hand. Driving with her _knees_.

In addition to that, there had been the crazy man with his windows all rolled down, pumping country music through his speakers loudly enough that Isshin started singing along using a random mash of all the English words he knew, until he'd ended up saying something offensive in combination and the other driver had pulled a pistol and taken a shot at the psychotic doctor, screaming "Yee-haww!" the entire time.

Luckily enough his dad had thought it was some sort of great American greeting and flashed a V-sign before shouting "Yee-haww!" back, which had creeped the other man out enough that he'd decided to leave the family alone, gun or no.

That didn't necessarily mean that they weren't going to get shot again though, and intensely wary, Ichigo had decided that staying in the car instead of running might be his best bet.

But to be fair, that had been _before_ Isshin started with his ninety-nine bottles of beer.

Thirty minutes later, when they're still essentially in the same spot, Isshin starts singing "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain."

Rukia happily joins him, despite not knowing the words.

Ichigo, eye twitching, pops the door open and makes a run for it.

**END**


	406. Biological Clock

**406.**

**Title:** Biological Clock  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, Iba, Renji, lightly IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count:** 575  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine. Just um, OOC crack. XD  
**Summary:** Babies.  
**Dedication:** Anyone who writes me ShuuxYumi right now, I mean it. WITHDRAWAL.  
**A/N: **Yeaaah, I don't know where this came from either. O.o

* * *

Shuuhei sighs, and after a minute, furrows his brow and looks at Ikkaku. "Um. Guys don't have biological clocks, right?" 

Ikkaku blinks. "The hell is that? Plant that tells time or somethin'?"

Shuuhei stares at the bald shinigami for a moment.

Very slowly, he turns to Iba. "Guys aren't supposed to have biological clocks, right?"

Tetsuzaemon shrugs. "I'd prefer a watch, I suppose. 's more portable."

Shuuhei stares some more.

Turns to Renji.

"Oi, Renji…Guys aren't…"

"Don't know what the fuck you're talkin' 'bout either!" Renji states, poking warily at his cafeteria gruel. "Ain't even gonna pretend."

Shuuhei supposes he can appreciate that.

He turns to Kira, who, in retrospect, he probably should have asked first. "Oi, Kira…"

"I…um, I don't think so?" the blonde answers, brow furrowing. "Why?"

Shuuhei sighs. "Yumi wants babies."

Everyone chokes.

Well, everyone except Ikkaku, who snorts at that like it's old news before turning back to Kira, trying to slip his hands under the blonde's shita-gi while they eat.

Kira, smacking at the bald shinigami's wandering fingers in a practiced manner, regains himself the quickest after Hisagi's announcement and smiles a bit nervously at Shuuhei. "Er…what exactly do you mean by that?"

Hisagi sighs. "'xactly how it sounds. Yumi wants babies. Asked Ran 'bout it and she snorted and said something about his biological clock ticking."

The other men present blink. "He _wants_ to have brats?"

Ikkaku, momentarily thwarted from getting his public Izuru-gropage for the day, sighs and puts his elbows on the table. "It's Yachiru's fault," he says, like that explains everything.

Everyone stares at him.

"That don't make a damn bit of sense," Iba scoffs.

"He wants babies 'cuz of _Yachiru_? Fuckin' crazy."

Ikkaku shrugs. "Believe me or don't, bastards, but I'm tellin' ya. Fukutaichou was a _damned adorable_ baby. Now she's bigger…don't need as much lookin' after." Pause. "Well, in certain ways. Yumi's probably just missin' it, is all. Heck, sometimes_ I_ miss it."

Kira turns to Madarame at the admission, beaming.

Ikkaku grins back, because that look in Izuru's eye means he's gonna get some gropage in after all.

Shuuhei frowns, trying to process this all at once. "So… he wants to make…_more _Yachirus?"

That makes everyone stop and think for a little bit…again.

"Fuckin' crazy," Iba declares.

"Insane," Renji agrees.

Ikkaku, hands comfortably sliding into the slits of Kira's hakama, pauses from nuzzling the blonde's ear. "Look," he says with a little sigh. "You guys weren't there, alright? She was a cute little baby. Still cute, just eviler now, I guess. But I'm tellin' ya. We did our best to, you know, make her self-sufficient. Didn't turn out bad, you ask me."

Everyone else supposes that they hadn't _failed._

Shuuhei sighs after a moment. "So. Babies." His voice is a little bit faint.

Renji pauses. Rubs sheepishly at the back of his neck. "Um…not to uh, sound stupid or anything…"

"Too late," Ikkaku interjects with a sneer.

Renji glares, but ignores the bald idiot. "How the hell're the two've you gonna get babies anyway?"

Shuuhei blinks, not having thought about it beyond the fact that Yumi _wanted _them. "Huh. Dunno."

The redhead grins when he hears that, reaching out to clap his friend on the back in a congratulatory manner. "Well then, no worries, man! You're perfectly safe."

Iba nods, similarly relieved for his friend. "Yeah man. And I ain't seen a stork 'round seireitei in forever."

Everyone stares.

Sighs.

Iba blinks. "What?"

**END**


	407. Shot Through the Heart

**407.**

**Title:** Shot Through the Heart  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 441 officially, though 162 of them aren't mine. XD  
**Warning/s: **SAP FLUFF WAFF.   
**Summary:** Storytime for Jyuushirou and Shun.  
**Dedication:** Sophiap- I don't know how else to help! ;;  
**A/N: **UM. Fairytale version stolen from: (http/hca. il/ ) and the story entitled "The Saucy Boy."

* * *

Shunsui steals a sideways look from the book he's currently reading, a fond, crooked smile tugging at his lips when he catches Jyuushirou's expression, the white-haired man's cheeks flushed with contentment as they sit together in the shade, simply idling away some time together. 

Jyuushirou tips his eyes upwards when Shunsui pauses, gently butts the other captain's chin with the top of his head. "Don't stop," he chastises quietly, "this is my favorite part."

"I know," Shunsui murmurs, grinning and pressing a kiss to Ukitake's hair, the taller captain resting his cheek against the soft strands before resuming his reading.

"_But your bow is spoilt," said the old poet. _

"_That would be unfortunate," said the little boy, taking it up and looking at it. "Oh, it's quite dry and isn't damaged at all. The string is quite tight; I'll try it." So, drawing it back, he took an arrow, aimed, and shot the good old poet right in the heart. "Do you see now that my bow was not spoilt?" he said, and, loudly laughing, ran away. What a naughty boy to shoot the old poet like that, who had taken him into his warm room, had been so good to him, and had given him the nicest wine and the best apple! _

_The good old man lay upon the floor crying; he was really shot in the heart. "Oh!" he cried, "what a naughty boy this Cupid is! I shall tell all the good children about this, so that they take care never to play with him, lest he hurt them." _

Jyuushirou laughs there, eyes sparkling mirth as he reaches over his own heart with his hand. "Aa. That cupid, he is a bit of a scamp, isn't he? Shooting us all so unsuspectingly," he sighs quietly, leaning back more into Shunsui's chest as he does.

Shunsui chuckles at that, closes his eyes and nuzzles close to the other man's cheek. "A scamp indeed, my Jyuu-chan," he agrees readily, momentarily forgetting story time as he seeks out the other captain's lips. "But then again, you've always had a thing for rascals, eh?" he whispers, pausing when they're just a breath apart.

Ukitake beams, reaches up to touch Kyouraku's stubbly cheek. "Hmmm… I do at that, don't I?" he admits readily, before closing his eyes and gently touching his lips to his lover's.

The two of them smile into it, and wrapping his arms tighter around the other captain, Shunsui can't help but think that he knows exactly how that old poet in the story feels.

The only difference is, he's long since adapted to having been shot through the heart.

**END**


	408. Head

**408.**

**Title:** Head  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira, mentions of GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 926  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Ikkaku has some reservations… but they don't last.  
**Dedication:** swinku- TAICHOU LOVES YOU. 33  
**A/N: **DIRTY. I like my skillz with titles too. Yeah. O.o

* * *

He'd been anxious about it the first time Kira had wanted to get his mouth on him, the bald shinigami maybe nervous about it, maybe guiltily thrilled about it too, both of those things all at once and a thousand other thoughts and feelings he hadn't been able to name off the top of his head as well.

Izuru had been amazing, to say the least.

Best damn blow Ikkaku had ever gotten and he hadn't been sure whether that was good or not, whether it was something that bastard Ichimaru had drilled into Izuru time and time again back in the day to get him that good at it. Made Ikkaku wonder if the fucker had made Izuru feel obligated to do it, like it was his job to get down there and give his all and not expect anything in return.

He'd swallowed anxiously when Kira had started moving down his body that first time; feather kisses on Madarame's stomach making his muscles twitch anticipatorily, making them tighten with excited heat though the still-functioning part of his brain had told him that maybe it wasn't a good idea. That maybe it'd set the wrong kind of precedent.

"Babe… you don't gotta…nnngh, you don't gotta…"

Kira had paused right down at his bellybutton then, had furrowed his brow at Ikkaku's reluctant tone. "You…don't want me to?"

Ikkaku had stared at him like was crazy. "Are you kidding me? I have wet dreams about you sucking…." Pause. Cough. Look Sheepish. "Erm… what I mean is… don't uh, don't feel like you gotta… um…" he'd begun to blush as he'd said it, but had barreled forward anyway, because that's just how he was, how he'd always been. "Don't feel obligated, to uh, do anything you don't want to do on my acco….HOLY GOD!"

All of him in one go. Of course he'd shouted.

Promptly forgot what he'd been planning to say at that point too, because Kira'd suddenly taken him to the hilt just like that, and all the blood that had still been in his brain up 'til that point (not very much, granted) had rushed straight down to his cock and it'd been all he could do not to start thrusting up into that hot little mouth like his hips were screaming at him to hurry up and do.

Kira'd smiled into it then—smug little bastard—enjoyed every minute of Ikkaku making indignant grunting and groaning noises through his nose as the taller man had tried to regain some sort of control over himself.

He'd tried, it hadn't worked, and he gave up not long after. That point on, he'd just gone with the flow, fingers threading into soft blonde hair as Kira'd gone at him, the smaller shinigami pushing his lover's hips down into the mattress and doing the types of things a man couldn't recover from once he'd felt 'em, that he didn't wanna recover from anyway.

And while part of Ikkaku might've been a bit disconcerted with _how_ good his lover was at what he'd been doing, most of him didn't give a good goddamn anymore.

Kira'd looked up at him afterwards, surprisingly smug and content with himself, licking the corners of his lips like he'd been eating gourmet candy this whole time or something, chuckling to himself as Ikkaku had tried to catch his breath, tried to get his heart back in his chest 'stead of in his throat where it'd jumped up into when he'd come his brains out a second earlier.

"Holy…god," Ikkaku'd managed again after a moment, causing Izuru to snicker a little when the bald shinigami had tugged at the blonde's shoulder, pulling him up against him and burying his nose into silk-soft hair as he'd shuddered in disbelief.

"Glad you liked it," the vice-captain had told him, gently stroking the heaving chest under his with his fingertips in a soothing type of manner.

"God," Ikkaku said-- third time for good luck-- before wrapping his arm around that sleek frame and thanking whatever diety was looking out for him that Kira was in his bed now. "Fuck, baby," he'd murmured, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

He'd come back to himself after a moment like that, pulled back to look into Izuru's eyes and let him know—'cuz he had to—what was what. "Amazing," he'd started, swallowing. "But I uh…you don't gotta, not if you don't…"

"You taste good," Kira'd purred then, nipping at Madarame's throat and once more, sending all his blood straight back to his cock like it was the only place it belonged on him. "I wanted to."

Well. Fuck that then.

Ikkaku'd grinned then, mentally giving Ichimaru Gin the finger for willingly giving Izuru up.

His gain.

Smiling, the bald death god had bent down to kiss Kira then, right on the mouth and yeah, the taste wasn't that bad, considering Izuru had swallowed most of it and all Ikkaku really cared about after a second or two of that was making sure the other man was being kissed as thoroughly as possible.

They pulled back after a moment, panting and happily flushed. "Hey," Ikkaku started after a moment, licking the sides of Kira's petal soft lips in-between words. "That thing you did with your tongue…"

Kira'd laughed at that, cheeks pink, but not with embarrassment. "Yeah?"

Smirking, Ikkaku'd rolled them over then, lining them up so that the other man's pale, perfect body was right under his. "Pretty damn amazing. You think maybe I could give it a try next?"

**END**


	409. A Foot taller

**409.**

**Title:** A Foot Taller  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Rikichi (lightly one-sided Rikichi+Renji?), GanjyuxHanatarou  
**Word Count:** 892  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the SS arc. And OOC. Lots of OOC. Probably.  
**Summary:** Rikichi can see the difference in Hanatarou.  
**Dedication:** UM. Swinku? I think she likes Rikichi. XD  
**A/N: **Yay, actually starting to move on with my self-mission of trying to write the other characters in Bleach who I don't like or don't write for other reasons. XD Small steps, I think. O.o But anyway, yes, I don't write Rikichi because I don't really get what motivates him to fanboy Renji. Erm, not that Renji isn't fanboy worthy, I just think that…well, more explanation is necessary. Thus, my Rikichi voice is probably DUMB. XD

* * *

He's noticed that his friend has gotten much stronger as of late, Hanatarou looking and sounding happier, bolder, more confident.

Ever since the incident with the ryoka, Hanatarou suddenly seems like he's grown a head taller.

And he's not even the least bit aware of the fact.

Rikichi can't help but feel a little envious of the other shinigami at that, because he remembers a time when it had been the two of them talking to each other when no one else was listening, speculating on how great it would be to be strong like the vice-captains and captains, to be respected and noticed and most importantly—not picked on.

Hanatarou doesn't act any differently towards him of course, still kind and still a confidante, someone who doesn't notice the widening gap between them at all.

Rikichi wonders if it's wrong of him to be just a tiny bit jealous, the sixth division death god wishing that he could smile the way Hanatarou does at the captains and vice-captains now, that he were able to greet them without tripping all over himself in the process and get a response because they'd all know his name in return.

He wants to be like that too.

He doesn't know where to start.

Oddly enough, he feels sheepish, scared almost, to ask Hanatarou, and one day, finds himself asking Shiba-san instead.

Hanatarou's lover—lover!—blinks at the sixth division shinigami when he hears the question. "Bein' strong? Like Hana?" Ganjyu grins a bit ruefully, looks over to the flower patch where Hanatarou is avidly butterfly watching. "That little guy? Strong?"

Ganjyu almost sounds like he wants to laugh some at that, but when he eyes Rikichi and realizes that Hana's little friend is absolutely serious, he sighs instead. "Dunno how he got to be like he is, to be honest," he admits after a bit. "When me'n Ichigo took him hostage… seemed like a bit of a weakling, really. Still seemed like it for a while…right up 'til the point where he looked at as both'n said "I want to help!" and wouldn't take no for an answer." The taller man grins fondly at that. "Twerp looked scared enough to wet himself when he said it, but point is that he said it. Guess you just gotta go from there."

"Ganjyu, Rikichi… look!"'

They both turn then; see that Hana has managed to coax a big orange and black monarch onto his finger, smiling like it's a huge deal, like he's never held a hell moth like that before in his life though in fact, he's done it countless times for countless years.

Ganjyu smiles. "Yeah, I see it. Nice work, runt!" he calls back, and Hana beams before letting the thing fly off.

When they look at each other like that Rikichi can see the warmth in Ganjyu's eyes and the easy confidence in Hana's, the one that makes the little fourth division shinigami look a head taller than he really is, especially when he smiles.

He thinks that maybe there's a correlation there, and finds himself glad that his friend has been able to find it, that in that moment where it had counted most, Hanatarou had been able to stand up and ignore his fear for just a second, changing his whole life in the process.

A few days later, the sixth division shinigami finds himself knocking timidly on Abarai-fukutaichou's door.

"Yeah?"

He peeks in, feels his heart jump in his chest when he sees Renji sitting there, chair tipped backwards on two legs and balancing a pencil on his nose.

"Renji-san?"

The redhead blinks when he hears Rikichi's voice, tips his chair back down onto the ground and with a practiced ease, catches the pencil before it can fall out of reach. "Yo, Rikichi. What's up?"

His hands are shaking a bit with nervousness and he thinks he understands what Shiba-san meant now, when the larger man had talked about being so scared one might wet oneself.

But if he wants to be strong, if he wants to go from being Abarai-fukutaichou's aide to something more, he has to take the first step himself.

Even if he's scared out of his mind.

Hanatarou—and Shiba-san to a degree— had taught him that.

"Um…I was… I was wondering… er… if you had the time of course… well…" he pauses, takes a deep breath. Looks up into Renji's eyes. "W-will you train with me?"

Renji blinks again, and Rikichi's almost afraid the redhead is going to laugh at him for even suggesting such a thing. Maybe he shouldn't have dared to hope…

Then Renji grins. "Sure. But just so ya know, I ain't goin' easy on yer ass 'cuz I like ya."

Rikichi stares when he hears his superior's easy capitulation. "E-eh? Really?"

"I'll come getcha after work, how's that?"

Rikichi feels himself smiling back before he can stop it, finds that he doesn't really want to hold himself back from doing it anyway. "Aa! After work then! Thank you, Renji-san!" he exclaims, flushed with happiness as he bows and scurries out the door, positively beaming as he heads back down the hall.

Vaguely, as he returns to work, he wonders if he suddenly looks a head taller himself now too.

Because, just like that, he already feels just a little bit stronger.

**END**


	410. Long Lost Twin

**410.**

**Title:** Long Lost Twin  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly Keigo+Mizuiro, Ikkaku, mentions of ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 579  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the post SS arc through abouts Ch 206 or 207? Also, OOC. TONS.  
**Summary:** A walk to school amongst friends.  
**Dedication:** Hmmm, how about all the nice readers at for helping this series get more than 1500 reviews?  
**A/N: **LAME. I AM LAME. But I guess Keigo's not so bad to write. Mizuiro is FUN tho. XD Ahaha is it sad that I OTP them simply because KeigoShuu and MizuYumi? XD

* * *

Yumichika beams when Mizuiro comes out of his home snacking on a granola bar, Keigo eyeing the pretty stranger's reaction to his friend's appearance warily. 

"Morning, Keigo," the dark-haired boy greets, part of their daily routine for walking to school together over the years. He pauses when he notices the two new additions, however. "Oh. Hello."

"Yo," Ikkaku grunts absently, looking irritated at having to wear a uniform and walk around unarmed this early in the damned morning.

"Morning," Yumi twitters, practically sparkling at the new arrival, who meets the pretty man's approval appearance wise. "My name is Yumichika and the shiny-headed grumpy-pants is Ikkaku. We're going to be walking to school with the two of you for a while, since we're staying at Keigo-kun's place. Hope that's not a problem," he explains after a moment, glad to finally have someone comparably good looking to talk to in the human realm.

Mizuiro swallows his last bite of granola bar and nods back at Yumichika. "That's fine by me. Nice to meet you. I'm Mizuiro."

Keigo twitches. "How is this suddenly okay?" he demands after a moment, rather disturbed at how naturally his friend and the new pretty boy are getting along.

Mizuiro blinks at Asano. "Why isn't it okay?"

Yumi beams at that. "Your little boyfriend is so cute, Keigo-kun. And polite too."

Mizuiro beams right back. "Hey, thanks."

Keigo chokes. "He's not my…" pauses then, horrified, before turning to Mizuiro. "Oi…the hell're you agreeing with him for!"

His longtime friend shrugs. "He said I was cute. And polite. So I thanked him." Mizuiro smiles. "It was the polite thing to do, since he's right on both counts, ne?"

Keigo slaps a hand to his forehead at the other boy's answer, though, in retrospect, he probably should've anticipated it. "I don't believe this," he says, anyway.

Ikkaku puts a hand on his shoulder sympathetically at that, speaking in sentences for the first time all morning. Maybe the coffee had started to kick in or something. "Ignore 'em. You get used to it."

Keigo, eyeing Mizuiro nervously out of the corner of his eye, watches as the dark-haired boy gets along famously with Yumichika as they walk together, the brown-haired teen feeling something like a deep dread welling in his chest as they go.

And then he realizes something.

Wide-eyed, he squeaks "God, I think I'm _already_ used to it…"

Ikkaku snorts. "Me too. Ain't ever thought I'd see the day where Yumi'd find his long lost twin, though. This is fuckin' scary, even for him."

Keigo hangs his head. "No joke."

They walk to school like that and before long, Yumi deems Mizuiro-kun to be much, much too good for a lout like Keigo. "He's so lucky to have you in his life regardless of his shortcomings, Mizuiro-kun."

The other boy grins at that and thanks Ayasegawa again, for the compliment.

It prompts Keigo to scream "Arrrgh!" and think to himself that maybe he ought to grab one of the two of them (or both) and shake them into stopping this ridiculousness.

The two pretty boys only regard him with mild amusement at his sudden exclamation however, before Yumi snickers outright. "You know, he sounds like my Shuuhei when he does that choking-on-his-own-spit thing. That's a little bit cute, at least."

Mizuiro sparkles right back at the new student. "I always thought it was kinda funny too."

Keigo wonders if there's a bridge nearby he can jump off of.

**END**


	411. He Started It!

**411.**

**Title:** He Started It!  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **11th division  
**Word Count:** 606  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for 11th division back story? But not really. Also, some OOC, but whatever. It's 1 in the morning. XD  
**Summary:** Traveling on the road with your badass gang. Right.  
**Dedication:** Idiosyn- hope this fulfills your request some?  
**A/N: **Seriously, I just wrote this for the soap thing. That is all.

Kenpachi manages not to roll his eyes when he hears it, that particular tone coming from behind him that means they're going to start bickering again.

"Yeah? Who the hell're you to talk anyway? You're the dumbass who gets superstitious 'bout wakin' up and finding that one of your hairs fell out while you was sleepin'."

"Oh, we're getting into _habits_, then, are we? Well, who's the _moron_ who can't use the same bar of soap if he forgets to wash his head before the rest of his body because he's afraid he'll be walking around the rest of the day with 'ass-face'?"

Ikkaku glowers. "Low blow."

Yumi smiles back at his companion, and there are edges to it. "Just so you know, using the same bar of soap more than once negates your stupid little paranoia anyway. You're _always_ going to be ass-face."

Ikkaku clamps his hands over his ears. "I can't hear you, ya fruity, cheap-ass, hittin'-below-the-belt bastard! La la la la la!"

"Besides," Yumichika sneers, continuing as if Ikkaku is listening (he is), "if I drew a line down the middle of your head you'd be an ass-face anyway. Humph. For someone who willingly walks around out in the open with an almost-butt-head, you're very sensitive about the soap thing."

"That's it!" Ikkaku wrenches his hands from his ears and tosses his pack on the ground before rolling up his sleeves. "I'm kickin' your goddamned ass; forget that I don't like hittin' girls. Or girly guys. Fucker!"

"I'd threaten to kick your ass in like, but I don't know _which end_ it's on just looking at you, right now," Yumi snipes back cattily, eyes telling the other man to bring it.

Ikkaku makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat at the last jibe and lunges at Yumichika, who steps around the other man's larger frame easily, foot catching the bald man in the butt as he passes. "Which end was that, I wonder?"

"You're dead, bastard! I mean it!"

Yachiru fusses on Kenpachi's back at the noise, having been woken by the sounds of scuffle and the smell of violence in the air.

Zaraki scowls. He'd just gotten her off to sleep like, an hour ago.

"Oi! Don't make me turn this damned caravan around, you damned idiots! I'll do it, I swear ta god!" he growls menacingly, stopping to turn and glare at the two upstart bastards and give 'em what's what.

They pause mid-scuffle at that tone and those words, Yumi holding Ikkaku in a surprisingly strong headlock (in an attempt to get an Indian burn going on the other man's scalp) as Madarame grasps a fistful of thick, dark hair like he's going to try and yank it out of the prettier man's head and make them twins.

Kenpachi blinks at the dual expressions they're looking at him with all of a sudden.

Mentally replays his last words in his head.

Can't believe the fuck he just said.

Yumi starts giggling first, releasing Ikkaku in the process, who catches on a split second later, though he's obviously just as amused by his (admittedly slower) findings as the fruitcake is.

"Yes, father!" they say in unison, almost like they share a brain (Kenpachi sorta thinks they do sometimes), and the minute he hears them call him that he seriously contemplates killing their asses dead.

But then Yachiru shifts on his back, making a general sound of discontent at the lack of sleep lulling movement.

Zaraki sighs. Turns around. Keeps walking.

"Shut the hell up and let's go. Damned brats."

Yumichika and Ikkaku snicker, but obey all the same.

**END**


	412. Patriarch

**412.**

**Title:** Patriarch  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Mayuri, Nemu  
**Word Count: **741  
**Warning/s: **Maybe spoilers for Urahara and Mayuri and Ururu and Nemu? I dunno. Probably OOC like whoa though, in either case.  
**Summary:** Mayuri is a man of science, and Nemu is his tool.  
**Dedication:** shinigamikender and tsukishine- UM. I'm still trying to understand, but this is a small step forward, maybe? I dunno. O.o  
**A/N: ** I SUCK AT WRITING MAYURI. That is all.

All he asks of her is that she serves her purpose.

People frown at him, simpletons sometimes even speak aloud in protest when he chastises her in public, and he scowls back at them because they are too stupid to understand that she isn't a person.

She is a creation (_his)_ and thus she thinks and feels as such a creation should—to serve a purpose.

What that purpose is, he hasn't clearly defined, but keeping the thought in mind helps him remember that she is not his child, not his daughter, not flesh of his flesh or blood of his blood.

She is something, yet not anything, and remembering that, as imprecise a measurement as it is, is key for Kurotsuchi Mayuri.

Perhaps it is cruel of him, to want so strongly for the world to know that she is not a real being, that she is his property, to be treated as he so chooses, fairly or unfairly.

It is perhaps, excessively harsh of him to be so adamant that everyone should know this.

But at the same time, it is necessary.

He does everything in his power to not grow attached to her, though she longs for it with those pathetic eyes of hers. He knows she does.

Sometimes, when he looks at her, he thinks that she might give him cause for fondness one day, and that only strengthens his resolve to make sure it does not. A reminder.

Because he refuses to fall prey to the same mistakes as his predecessor. He won't end up like Urahara Kisuke, so attached to a mere creation of his that he would sacrifice his own future for it, that he would take the creature he had _made_ and treat it as a child of his own flesh, protect it as one.

Because no matter how brilliant a man, when such emotions—manufactured or no—become involved, one's ability for greater judgment is inevitably compromised.

Urahara Kisuke should have destroyed that abomination he'd created the first time he'd fallen in love with it, that despicable thing he had called his "sweet little Ururu." He should have struck her down the moment she'd opened her eyes. It had been ordered after all, by the higher powers of the court. Such a being, such a creation, went against all laws of seireitei and its higher god. Ururu's creation had been one of the greatest blasphemies the Court of Pure Souls had experienced in eons.

Because only god can create life as such.

When Mayuri made Nemu, he made sure to make it clear to all that she is not a life. She is not a person. She is a creation, a thing of science much as the gigai are, as the mod souls are. A temporary housing to an essentially soulless, artificial object.

He makes sure they see him treat her as such, so that in his eyes as well as everyone else's, Mayuri cannot be accused of having sinned against the court, nor against god, because he did not create a child for himself, as his heretic of a predecessor had. Mayuri had simply created a tool. A weapon.

A weapon he can shape to his will. Can enhance or destroy as he sees fit.

Nemu is not a person, and he is determined that the world knows it.

His purpose for doing as such would be clearer maybe, if those simpletons and idiots who judged him could look past their own indignation for a moment, if they could see the bigger picture like he does.

If he called her daughter, if he loved her and coddled her and pet her as Urahara Kisuke had his sad-eyed creation, then he and Nemu both would surely be driven from Soul Society (or destroyed) as a result.

By the judgment of god and law.

However, if he calls her thing, if he sneers at her and uses her as an object of his studies, as a subject of research, then he has not blasphemed. He has not played god.

It's just science.

Those idiots that call him monster when they see how he treats her, the ones who say he is unfit to be a father refusing—or perhaps unable— to see the bigger picture here.

To see what's at stake if he were to do otherwise.

He treats her this way because it's the only way he knows to keep her alive.

**END**


	413. Invisible Leash

**413.**

**Title:** Invisible Leash  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake, Sentarou, Kiyone  
**Word Count:** 972  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Jyuushirou doesn't worry about Shunsui's wandering eyes.   
**Dedication:** meiyanohi and shinigamikender- conversations in MS chat late at night inspire fic? Also for swinku, because she is our pet now. XD  
**A/N: **Me still trying to incorporate characters I don't like so much into larger rolls. Here we go!

Kiyone doesn't like Kyouraku-taichou very much, knows that he's not the type of man who deserves her taichou's affections.

It's one thing she and Sentarou agree on—Kyouraku Shunsui is definitely no good for sweet, kind Ukitake-taichou.

He drinks all the time and lazes about, doesn't do his work. He infuriates his vice-captain and flirts with every pretty girl he sees. Then he tells stories about it afterwards, sitting in Ukitake's office like he belongs there and drinking wine while dreamily sighing about the beautiful young thing he ran into earlier, the one who didn't mind so much, when he'd asked her what color her panties were.

Things like that burn Kiyone up and she gets indignant on her taichou's behalf, because Ukitake-taichou is too kind, too gentle to act angry upon hearing of Kyouraku's dalliances.

Sentarou says that maybe Kyouraku-taichou doesn't know of Ukitake-taichou's affections for him, since such a thing isn't something to be publicly discussed.

But Kiyone knows otherwise, has seen soft kisses exchanged between the two when she'd burst into taichou's office abruptly, forgetting to knock.

Kyouraku-taichou always simply smiles and greets his kawaii Kiyone-chan at that, while Ukitake-taichou clears his throat and does his best to pretend that Kiyone hadn't seen what she'd just seen.

She's convinced that Kyouraku-taichou is a shameless, shameless man. Even going so far as to flirt with _her _right in front of Ukitake-taichou!

It eventually gets to the point where both she and Sentarou can't take any more, and one day, right after Kyouraku-taichou has gone, they go to Ukitake-taichou's office.

"Is something the matter, you two?" he asks, mildly.

"Taichou!" Kiyone bursts, "why do you stay with Kyouraku-taichou?"

Ukitake blinks, sets his brush down when he hears how distressed the young girl is. "Why, what do you mean, Kiyone?"

"She means that Kyouraku-taichou is a dirty cheater!" Sentarou says, eyes burning.

Ukitake frowns slightly. "Maa, you shouldn't talk about people like that if you haven't the proof you two,'" he says, calm as ever.

"B-but, taichou!" Kiyone pouts, "he's always chasing women and flirting and…"

Ukitake smiles a bit at that, reaches out to ruffle her hair gently. "Well. I suppose you two won't let this go until I've shown you how this works, will you?"

They both blink at him, and laughing a bit, he shoos them out of his office with the instructions to come see him tomorrow evening.

The next night they go out with Ukitake-taichou as scheduled, heading to a nice little restaurant with a cozy bar. There they find Kyouraku-taichou drinking heartily and flirting with two pretty women on either side of him.

Kiyone and Sentarou are about to protest but Ukitake shushes them with a finger to his lips and ushers them to a table where they'll be able to see.

The minute he enters the premises, something changes in the air.

Kyouraku, sensing it perhaps, straightens and turns suddenly, eyes finding the white-haired captain instinctively. "Naa, Jyuu-chan!" he greets, waving the other captain over. "Ladies, this is Jyuushirou," he tells the girls. "The one I've been telling you about. Good looking, ne?"

The girls twitter. "Quite so, Kyouraku-taichou."

Shunsui grins smarmily then, hooking an arm around each of them. "You two are lovely enough yourselves, I think," he murmurs, "that the four of us could get along rather well, na?"

Jyuushirou smiles calmly and bows, uttering a pleasant "Pleased to meet you," before settling down beside Kyouraku and ordering a warm cup of sake.

The night goes on in very much that manner, though the two girls begin to realize that Shunsui's attentions are elsewhere.

"Naa, Jyuu-chan, isn't Mizuki-chan so cute? I think I'm in love with her."

Jyuushirou sips his sake. "That's nice, Shun."

Pout. Pause. "Jyuu-chan… which of the two do you like best, ne? I'll let you have first pick, since I know you only like certain types."

"That's fine, Shun. Take both of them, if you'd like."

Frown. "Na, Jyuu-chan…"

"Hmm?"

Shunsui sighs, lets a little crooked smile play at the corners of his mouth. "It's getting late, ne?"

The girls pout. "It's not so late, Kyouraku-taichou!" Mizuki-chan protests. She's right.

But Shunsui just laughs, reaches out and fondly chucks her chin with his index finger. "Ah, to be young again," he murmurs. "But I suppose Jyuu-chan and I aren't up to speed anymore. Old bones, ne?"

Jyuushirou laughs a little, rich and warm. "Don't call it an early night on my behalf, Shun," he tells his friend, winking as he stands from the bar. "I can walk myself back after all, and I wouldn't want to stand in the way of your fun. You've always had more energy than me."

Shunsui looks absolutely wounded at that. "Jyuu-chan…"

The white-haired captain, eyes twinkling, moves to go. "Have a wonderful evening, you three. Ladies, it was nice to meet you. Good night."

And then Jyuushirou is leaving, Kiyone and Sentarou on his heels as Kyouraku looks after them sorrowfully.

They're two steps outside of the bar when Kiyone can't take it anymore. "What was that, taichou!" she demands. "That didn't prove anything!"

"Agreed!"

Jyuushirou looks at them both fondly. "Let's head back to the division, ne?"

Both of them pout at that, but know better than to argue with that specific tone when taichou uses it.

They get back twenty minutes or so later and are just pouring some hot tea when Kyouraku-taichou bursts into the office.

"Jyuu-chan!"

"Shun… I thought you'd be busy right now."

The other man grins and plops down next to Ukitake. "The girls were lovely," he says, and leaves it at that. "Ooh, is that tea?"

Jyuushirou nods. "Aa. Would you like some?"

"Please!"

Kiyone and Sentarou look at each other, dumbfounded.

Kyouraku-taichou very obviously doesn't plan on leaving until morning.

Ukitake-taichou is nothing but amused.

**END**


	414. No Regrets

**414.**

**Title:** No Regrets  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 257  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the post SS arc.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei watches him leave.  
**Dedication:** tsukishine and shinigamikender for writing me fic at like, 3 am the other night. XD  
**A/N: **No idea where this came from. My ShuuxYumi feels a bit angsty lately. Maybe MS's fault. XD

He'd made a joke— a horrible one— in an effort to disguise his worry, to let Yumichika go on and do the mission without him, to let the smaller man leave without having any regrets. Because regrets in battle are dangerous.

He'd said, "Guess I get to relive the old bachelor days for a little while, eh? Shouldn't be too bad," and laughed nervously, trying to play it cool and hearing his voice crack a little bit all the same.

Yumi simply rolled his eyes and yanked Shuuhei forward, kissed him hard so he'd remember his non-bachelor days instead, even while Yumichika was gone.

He'd found himself kissing back with matching force, felt that stupid joke die, forgotten, somewhere in the back of his mind as his hands had fisted his lover's uniform up tight enough that he'd had to mentally will each individual muscle to uncurl later, to let Yumi go.

Yumichika pulled back first, licking his lips and smiling a little, sighing fondly at Shuuhei. Moved to leave all the same though, because he had to. Because as much as he loved Shuuhei he wasn't going to let Ikkaku go alone. Wasn't how things worked between the two of them. "Be good," he'd murmured to the vice-captain, before turning towards the doorway.

"Be amazing," Shuuhei called after him, just before the door closed between them.

He still doesn't quite know why he'd had to say it just then, why he'd felt the need to put it out there verbally.

They both know Yumi already is.

**END**


	415. Maybe Giants

**415.**

**Title:** Maybe Giants  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchigoxRukia  
**Word Count:** 454  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the post SS-arc through about chapter 220 something?  
**Summary:** Ichigo keeps getting stupidly strong.  
**Dedication:** Jen- because I believe in your art! We will make a great doujin together. 3  
**A/N: **Haha I wanted to do something for the IchixRuki challenge, but I just didn't click with either of the prompts, so here is something to make me feel less retarded since I haven't written them forever anyway. --;; I think I'm no good at them now, much worse than before, though. --;;

She always feels like she's chasing after him.

When he comes back from wherever it is he's been it seems like he's gone even further ahead of her-- the way he walks, the way he smiles at her all seems stronger somehow-- and Rukia can't help but feel left in the dark again, closed off while he went off and got stupidly powerful while she doesn't have a clue as to where or how.

Despite her size, Rukia has never in her whole life really felt very small before.

But right now, Ichigo seems like he's ten feet tall.

"Yo, Rukia."

And that's all he has to say. There's blood caked along his jaw and bruises on his arms and despite all that, despite how exhausted and crappy he looks, when he grins and peers down at her as he's doing now, he feels like a giant.

Looking at him, it feels like something important has changed all of a sudden, and he hasn't told her a thing.

She's not sure how she feels about that… maybe that he's leaving her behind, that there's a distance growing between them, that she's being left back in the dark.

And she's not really sure how to react to that.

So she does the first thing that comes to mind.

"The hell have you been, moron!" accompanied by a solid kick to the shin.

The giant folds unexpectedly, yelping and clutching his injured leg. "Ow! The hell was that for?"

She must have done it harder than she'd intended to for him to take a tone like that, and looking up at him, she wonders if she should say, "I was worried!" or "I was scared!" like she feels a part of her wants to.

"That's for being a dumbass!" she tells him instead, and looks at the ground.

And maybe there's something in the way she says it that gets him to recognize the "I was worried!" beyond her actual words anyway, because instead of knuckling her hair or kicking her in the butt, he scoffs and averts his eyes sideways like he's only _thinking_ of doing those things to her.

"Well I'm back now, aren't I, stupid?" he grumbles, rubbing the back of his head with one hand and suddenly looking much more like Ichigo than some unknown giant in the far off distance.

She glowers at him and it might be the most relieved she's felt in a while. "Like I care."

He snorts. "Che. Like I care that you don't care."

"I don't!"

"Whatever."

They walk back to the Kurosaki household like that, and on the way, Rukia kicks him twice more just because.

She hates to admit it, but she's incredibly relieved.

**END**


	416. Welcome to the Club

**416.**

**Title:** Welcome to the Club  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yumichika, Ikkaku  
**Word Count:** 800  
**Warning/s: **Um, gayness. XD  
**Summary:** Ikkaku blames Yumi.  
**Dedication:** swinku- hope finals are going well! TAICHOU LOVES YOU LOTS.  
**A/N: **I have no idea. I really don't.

On those rare occasions when Ikkaku finds himself missing breasts, he blames it on Yumichika.

"This is your fault!"

Yumichika blinks, and wonders what he possibly could have done to Ikkaku _today_ that would warrant a random outburst in the middle of their conditioning exercise. Usually Ikkaku doesn't start to get irritable until at least their twentieth mile in, and that's only because he usually starts thinking about things he can't do until he's done with all thirty miles, such as drink beer or have sex or beat some dudes up.

They're only on their thirteenth as it is, and Yumichika can't imagine that the big bald idiot has noticed (yet) the line that he's drawn down the back of Ikkaku's head so that it looks like a butt from the perspective of all the following division members.

"What's my fault?" he poses after a moment, deciding that maybe Ikkaku is mad about something else altogether.

"You made me gay!"

Yumichika blinks. "Did I? But you and I have never…"

Madarame makes a face at that. "No…not that, dumbass. God no. What I mean is… er… proximity, or something." Frowning, he waves one hand vaguely in Yumichika's direction, like he's trying to dispel some sinister, invisible aura from around his friend. "'S like Shuuhei was tellin' me. You seep in."

Yumichika wrinkles his nose a bit. "Are you sure he wasn't talking about…"

"Oh god no." Pause. "Perverted fucker _better_ not've been, anyway." Second pause. "Stop changing the subject, you bastard."

Yumi does his best to feign contrition. "Right. So it's my fault?"

"Exactly!"

Yumichika smiles and waits patiently for the other shoe to drop.

Ikkaku glares at the face his friend is making and averts his eyes. "Cut that the fuck out."

The fifth-seat blinks. "Was that all?"

"Yeah, kinda."

Yumi snickers internally. "Should I apologize?"

Ikkaku scoffs. "That'd be a start, at least."

Yumi fights the urge to roll his eyes. "Right, because I'm sure the fact that Kira-kun has lovely skin and big, beautiful eyes and the sweetest smile has nothing to do with…"

Ikkaku's brow twitches. "I'm not complainin' 'bout _that_," he assures his friend. "He's my one lucky break in all this shit. What I'm _sayin'_ is that it's _your_ fault 'bout everything else! 'fore I know it I'll be buyin' expensive clothes and _giggling_ and pausing in front of every reflective surface we come across…" Ikkaku looks horrified at his own assumptions. "Oh _god._"

Yumichika looks thoughtful. "Does this mean I can look forward to seeing you dress yourself like a responsible adult instead of having to smell you before I lay eyes on you?"

Ikkaku, looking severely put-out by the conversation, glares. "Ha _fuckin'_ ha."

Yumi smiles indulgently, recognizing his friend's sulky tone. "Oh Ikkaku, I promise you, you're not _that_ gay," he says, reaching out and patting the other man's shoulder in a placating manner as they run.

Ikkaku snorts. "Well, no. 'Course not."

"I mean," Yumichika continues, sensing the other man to be calming down a bit as he talks, "you hardly bathe every day."

"Damn waste of time."

"And you leave your dirty clothes all over the floor."

"Ain't dirty 'til they've gotten to be a different damned color'n what you started out with, ya ask me."

Yumi makes a face, but pushes on. "You can't cook to save your life," he drawls, thinking this might be a little over the top at this point. "You don't even _like_ poetry, probably don't know what season it _is _let alone which one you _are_…"

Ikkaku blinks. "Season?"

Yumi smiles. "Exactly. See? Nothing to worry about."

The bald shinigami thinks about that for a second. "Yeah…er, maybe you're right. I guess."

"And you're um, very strong," Yumi adds just to make sure. "I mean, only taichou and fukutaichou and I can ever beat you at these conditioning marathons!"

Ikkaku blanches as he realizes something. "Oh god…"

Yumi blinks and unfortunately, knows exactly what his friend is thinking. "But I've _always_ beaten you."

Ikkaku looks outright distressed now. "Oh god, I'm going to wake up one morning and have a _fashion sense!_"

Yumichika thinks fast.

"Um… I drew a line down the middle of your head this morning and now it looks like a butt?"

Ikkaku stops.

Blinks.

"Wait, _what_?"

Yumichika giggles to himself and sprints up ahead of Ikkaku. "Just like I said!"

Then predictably, "I'm gonna kill you, you fruity fuck!" before Ikkaku is sprinting after Yumichika with a decidedly murderous look in his eye.

Yumi twitters and widens the lead, commending himself on being such a good friend given his willingness to go through so much trouble to distract Ikkaku from what ails him.

"Catch me if you can, butt-face!"

"ARGH DIE!"

The power of friendship is a beautiful thing.

**END**


	417. Guardian Spirits

**417.**

**Title:** Guardian Spirits  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Unohana, Komamura  
**Word Count:** 770  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc. Probably OOCness and incoherence too. --;;  
**Summary:** Komamura doubts.  
**Dedication:** Tsuki- don't doubt your Unohana voice! Though I'll have to agree…she's damned hard to write. --;;  
**A/N: **I'm not sure if this makes sense as a coherent whole since it's so all over the place with Komamura, but I figure I'd better find a voice for him sometime soon. --;;

She's tending to him personally as he lies in the fourth division hospice this afternoon, and he finds it amazing when she doesn't flinch once when she looks at him, doesn't even pause to process his appearance, who and what he is.

Her hands are gentle and efficient as she sits at his bedside, the feel of skin against unfamiliar fur not at all hesitant or unsure.

He wonders about that, briefly. Is surprised that she doesn't seem to find him a big deal.

"Is something the matter, Komamura-taichou?" she asks, voice as gentle as her hands.

"No, nothing," he tells her, feeling vaguely sheepish. "I was just… admiring your decorum, Unohana-taichou."

She smiles. "What do you mean?"

"It's just, I find that your ability to work past the surprise my appearance must bring on is…well, very professional, I suppose."

She chuckles a little. "Ah, well. I suppose I must confess then, taichou," she begins, " that I've had some time yet to adjust to your face." She meets his eyes then, and there's a knowing twinkle in them that he might categorize as fond amusement.

He blinks and feels a little something like dread curl inside of his stomach. "You have?" he manages, trying to figure out how she might have discovered his true nature before the events of the past few hours.

She resumes her work then, serene as ever. "I have been around for a long, long time, Komamura-taichou," she says softly. "And I have seen many things."

He sighs, supposes that can be true for a lot of them. "I see." Pause. And then, because he can't help but ask, "You don't find me grotesque, then?"

She laughs a little at that, soft and sweet, and it makes him feel like he'd asked a rather absurd question, though it was one he'd spent a good deal of his life dreading having to say.

"Grotesque? Of course not. Besides, taichou, aren't guardian fox spirits supposed to be a rather lucky happening?"

That is true enough, however, he is only half of such a creature—his mother being victim to an ancient kitsune spirit with the temperament of a certain Olympian of legend-- and the fact makes him wonder maybe, if that is why his luck hadn't been good enough, strong enough, to keep Tousen here in lieu of abandoning the court the two of them had so fervently believed in for so long.

Maybe his protective spirit had not been enough, had been too dirty, to hold his companion here.

He is a filthy child of taboo after all. Perhaps he had inadvertently sullied Tousen by association in some way, helped lead him to the path his friend had chosen with Aizen.

"I am certain," a soft voice begins, liltingly, "that he was very happy, that he still is very happy, to have had you as a friend, Komamura-taichou."

And like she'd been reading his mind the words come out and give him pause to look up, to wonder if maybe she's half a guardian spirit of some sort herself. "I…"

She shushes him with another one of those gently confident smiles, lets her hand rest for a moment, on the fur atop his head. "I think it is best, taichou," she says, "to not dwell on what we have lost. Remembering what we've had, what we still have, what we might have tomorrow, is a much more pleasant thing to linger upon, don't you agree?"

He suddenly feels very young and very small in the presence of this woman, finds himself swallowing and murmuring, "Unohana-taichou… do you think… that it's possible to…"

She lifts her hand from his head and moves it to cup his cheek then, looking right into his eyes with a kind of overwhelming calm that lets him believe for a moment, that she sees him as something other than a beast. "Do _you_?"

It's irrational; it's probably rather foolish too, given everything that's occurred in seireitei over the past few days. Yet a part of him doesn't want to give up on Tousen yet. A part of him still….

"I do."

…believes.

"I do," he repeats, stronger this time.

"Then do," she says simply, eyes crinkling at the corners with a kind of playful mirth that is both warmly familiar and inexplicably powerful. "A guardian spirit should never doubt those he wishes to protect, ne?"

Feeling vaguely helpless under the subtle intensity of her gaze, he swallows, and after a moment, allows himself smile just a little bit. "No… I suppose we shouldn't."

She hasn't doubted him for a moment, after all.

**END**


	418. Impatient Bastard

**418.**

**Title:** Impatient Bastard  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira, hints at GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 500  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Ikkaku's working on the whole concept of patience.  
**Dedication:** IkkakuxKira fans everywhere? All…ten of us? XD  
**A/N: **I dunno, I feel remiss in writing the pairing lately. XD Probably because Shuumi WANT WANT WANT has hit me (once again) with a vengeance and all my thoughts go to them. But here's something! Hopefully. XD

He doesn't consider himself the type of guy who dwells too much on the past. He likes living in the here and now, moment to moment. He likes looking to the future.

But he finds that every now and again he can't help but wondering about the past inexplicably, on those rare moments when he looks at his lover and maybe sees something like nostalgia in those eyes, maybe regret and maybe the faint tendrils of something like "what if" tugging at his thoughts.

When he sees that, he can't really help it when a part of him wants to know what happened to Izuru, what Ichimaru did to him.

But he never asks because he tells himself it's the type of thing Izuru will talk about when he's good and ready to, and as much as Ikkaku would like to know everything _now_, he's just gonna have to wait for the full explanation when it comes. If ever.

And if it doesn't?

Well…tough.

That's what he tells himself anyway. Be patient, it'll come if it's gonna. Just gotta wait for it. Be supportive, be there. Don't be an ass… every man's got things he don't wanna talk about with other people. It's only natural, only ri…

"…Oi, Izuru."

Well.

Ikkaku's never really been good with patience.

Or at not being an ass.

"Hmmm?"

"Er, you don't gotta answer if you don't wanna, but uh… I was just… I guess I was wonderin' something."

"…what?"

"Ichimaru… if…if he'da told ya, if he'da asked…" he trails off, frowns, tries again. "Would you have gone with him?"

He gets a lengthy pause at that, followed sometime later, by a very quiet, very thoughtful, "…yes."

Oh.

"Oh." Ikkaku swallows, and then grits his teeth and pushes forward, because if he's not good at patience, he's at least good at doing that. Not dwelling. Moving on. "And… would you still go with him… now?"

A less lengthy pause this time, and then a small, warm smile that goes straight to Ikkaku's heart and makes him go absolutely stupid. "No."

Oh.

"Oh. Well. 's good then." And it is. All he needed to hear, really.

Izuru laughs a little at the other man's overly simple reaction, tucking his bangs behind his ear and licking his lips a bit nervously. "Um… is there, is there anything else?"

Ikkaku feels himself grin a little bit after a second. "Yeah, one more question."

Kira swallows, still looking a bit wary. "…okay."

"Wanna go have sex?"

This time it's a much less lengthy pause, and even though bright blue eyes roll in exasperation at the crude nature of the question, the whispered, anticipatory little "yes" Madarame gets in response is all he'd really been aiming for anyway.

Smirking winningly, Ikkaku hefts Izuru up over his shoulder and thinks that maybe it's not so bad every now and again, to be a little bit impatient.

And hell, not like he can suddenly stop being an ass just like that anyway.

**END**


	419. Worldly

**419.**

**Title:** Worldly  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Orihime, Renji  
**Word Count:** 997  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the early portion of the post-SS arc.  
**Summary:** Orihime wants to teach Renji about the human world just as she learned it.   
**Dedication:** esotaria- pick up for bleachexchange!  
**A/N: **I can only apologize in advance because your prompts totally made my mind turn off, but I did my best, I promise! XD I hope this works.

Granted it had been prompted by an offhand comment by Ayasegawa-san, but ever since she'd heard him say "they're like little babies left to fend for themselves," with regards to Ikkaku and Renji during lunch one day, Orihime hasn't been able to stop thinking about it.

They'd been eating out of a convenience store bag, Yumichika sipping calmly at a bottle of lemon-flavored tea and nibbling on an onigiri while his companions had been hunched over said bag, arguing over a package of rice cakes and trying to figure out how to defeat the formidable opponent that stood between them and their food—a little modern miracle humans liked to call cellophane.

"Eh, really?" she'd asked, wondering what he could mean given that Renji and Ikkaku both seemed rather capable.

"They have absolutely no common sense. Helpless, really," the pretty shinigami had declared with a little sigh, Ayasegawa eventually losing his patience and grabbing the package from them, pulling the clear "demon paper" off of it in one smooth motion before handing it back.

"Helpless?" she'd murmured, watching Renji and Ikkaku tentatively try the store-bought snack before deeming it edible and going at it enthusiastically.

"Completely," Yumichika had responded drolly, gesturing to Ikkaku, who now had a mouthful of overly-sticky rice cake and was trying to figure out how to get the liquid out of his Ramune bottle so he could wash the food down. "You see now, Inoue-san, why I had to come? I absolutely couldn't let Ikkaku come here alone. The big dummy would have starved to death with food right under his nose!" Yumichika said, grabbing the Ramune bottle next and using the top to break the seal, releasing the little marble into the liquid.

Ikkaku had scowled at him, but took the drink and moved to chug it back anyway.

He'd tipped it too high however, and only got a few drops before the marble stopped up the opening. Grunting in confusion, he'd lowered the bottle, peered down into the hole and… shook it.

Ramune had gotten into not only _his_ eye, but into Renji's as well, when the redhead repeated the same action moments later with his drink.

"I take it back," Yumichika had sighed, watching them incredulously. "They're even _more_ helpless than babies."

And maybe Ayasegawa-san is right about that, because now that she thinks about it, it must be weird for the shinigami to be dropped off into a whole new world and left to their own devices like they've been. Ikkaku is very lucky to have a friend who's always watching out for him.

Especially since Ayasegawa-san knows so much about so many things.

And Hitsugaya-kun has Rangiku-san, who knows lots about stores at least, and buying things (getting nice men to buy things for her?), which definitely helps since Hitsugaya-kun says they're on a tight budget.

And Kuchiki-san has Kurosaki-kun of course; to make sure she gets along alright. Really, the only person who doesn't is…

Inoue blinks and turns to Renji, who's happily dozing in his window seat, drooling all over the desk.

She wonders if he's very lonely and scared, just like a child might be. Especially during those times when he hasn't got anyone around to help him through things he doesn't know about at the end of the day, when he has to go to wherever he's staying all alone and everyone else at least has someone to walk with.

She knows a little bit of what it's like, she thinks. Knows about growing up with a life full of times when you're left by yourself and there's no one there to guide you.

But at least she had her brother for a while, to show her the most important things.

She can only imagine what it's like for Renji, who's left all on his own in a strange new world right now, completely "helpless" and with no Ayasegawa-san or Rangiku-san or Kurosaki-kun by his side.

It must be very frightening.

That discovered, Orihime looks at the snoozing redhead again and decides that she'll have to be the one to help teach him about this odd new world he finds himself in.

The next day at school, she has a stack of books in her arms and a look on her face that's determined to help Renji as much as possible. She'd spent the night combing through memories of being young with her brother around and has picked out what she thinks are the most important things he ever showed her. A good starting place.

"Renji-kun, please come with me," she asks during lunch, causing Chizuru to uproar at the bad man who is obviously brainwashing her 'hime towards phalluses, the declaration of which results in a sharp smack upside the head from Tatsuki.

"Er….kay," he says dumbly, before turning to ask Yumichika and Ikkaku to pick him up some food from the convenience store-- but none of that burning liquid that doesn't even come out of the bottle right.

"Che, like we're gonna get anything for some lucky-ass bastard who gets to go on a _date_ while we're…oof."

Yumichika, plucking his elbow from where it had accidentally impacted his friend's ribcage, nods at the redhead's request and drags Ikkaku off with a wink at Orihime over his shoulder.

Orihime takes it as encouragement and promptly leads Renji to the roof, sitting him down across from her as she readies her books.

"Er… what's goin' on?" he asks, carefully.

"I'm going to help you!" she declares, opening up the first book. "This is what my niisan used to read to me… I think it must be very important. So let's start here, ne?"

Renji blinks. "Huh?"

She smiles at him and begins to read without further ado. "I am Sam."

Renji blinks (again). "You are?"

Which prompts her to close the book and reach for her "_Baby's First Read and Touch_" one instead.

"Sorry!" she says sheepishly. "Let's start easier, ne?"

Renji stares. "Huh."

**END**


	420. Frog Prince

**420.**

**Title:** Frog Prince  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou  
**Word Count:** 539  
**Warning/s: ** Vague spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Hanatarou incurs the jealousy of his teammates.  
**Dedication:** the readers of this and my other work there- woo, three hundred! Thanks for your support.  
**A/N: **The filler arc has so much GanxHana, I suppose I just can't help myself. O.o

Before, Hanatarou had never thought of himself as the type of person who other people would ever have reason to be jealous of.

But then again, he'd never thought of himself as the type of person who would break the rules before, either.

However, it turned out he was. On both counts.

His division mates envied him for some odd reason now, and whenever he brought it up with Ganjyu the newly instated eleventh division death god simply asked if Hana wanted him to beat them up or something, to which Yamada always said a quick "no, but thank you!" to before retreating back into his own mind over the issue.

He really didn't think he was the type of guy who was enviable.

"Of course they're jealous," Rikichi had told him one day, laughing nervously. "I mean, I guess…when we break the rules here, we usually just expect to be punished."

Hanatarou had been punished—technically-- but he supposed that it wasn't really a real sort of punishment, looking back on it now.

"But I guess they're mostly jealous because you um, you got to be kind of a hero in the end, even after you broke the rules? And…well, there's that whole thing where you landed the _Shiba_ _family_ heir. It's like…a fairytale or something. You got your very own prince out of the whole thing."

One who farts in his sleep and scratches himself in public, but Hanatarou had to admit, upon thinking about it for a moment, that Ganjyu really was some sort of a prince—technically-- in his own right.

Kind of.

Upon learning of _that_ reason behind Hanatarou's teammates' jealousy, said prince had leered rather suggestively, plucking the smaller shinigami up and settling him comfortably in his lap, just like always. ""Course they're jealous of _that_," he'd snorted, resting his chin on Hana's shoulder.

Hanatarou had smiled, but didn't say anything other than, "Oh."

"Oi, be a little more enthusiastic, eh?" Ganjyu demanded then, gently knuckling Yamada's temple with one big fist. "Hurt my damned feelings why don'tcha?"

"A-ah, sorry!"

Ganjyu had only been able to sigh at Hana's sheepish response, had turned his knuckling into a less-rough ruffling of the smaller boy's hair instead. "'S not what I really meant anyway, dumbass."

"It's not?"

"Tch. 'Course not. Those guys ain't really jealous of you bein' with _me_, really."

"No?"

Ganjyu grinned. "Nope. Stupid whiny losers're just jealous on account of the fact that ain't no one in this world who can like _them _as much as I like you. 'N they know it, too."

The smaller shinigami felt his cheeks turn pink at the confident declaration from his boyfriend. "…oh."

Ganjyu had scowled again, chucked Hana's chin at the second lackluster response of the evening. "Oi, be a little more enthusiastic, eh? Hurt my damned feelings _again_."

The pout Ganjyu was currently giving him really didn't appear all that cute on his face in particular, but looking at it, Hanatarou supposed that this was the love of his prince all the same.

And as he'd moved to kiss him— Ganjyu tasted like potato chips-- Hanatarou decided that in all reality, he didn't really mind either way, if things were always like this.

**END**


	421. The Paths of Lions

**421.**

**Title:** The Paths of Lions  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Il FortexArrankar, Aizen, Grimmjow  
**Word Count:** 998  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the post SS-arc and a bit of non-con.  
**Summary:** Il Forte is an insect.  
**Dedication:** Shini- thanks again for the donation!  
**A/N: **So the request was for Arrankar pron. Yet this wouldn't leave my head. It's _sort of_ porn? O.o

The reason Aizen keeps all the Arrankar he creates—weak or strong—is because he believes in the right of every creature to hold its own existence.

However, he also believes that living things must exist on different levels.

It wouldn't be fair if insects could walk the same paths as lions, after all.

But he keeps them all either way, keeps the weak ones just as he keeps the strong ones and lets them all know they are beloved, that they have a right to their own lives, whatever they may be.

But all the same, he thinks it's only fair that they know some of them will be stronger than others, that the stronger will have more power over their whatever-they-may-bes than the weaker.

Il Forte is fortunate, Aizen thinks, for being beautiful despite his weaknesses.

It's saved him perhaps, from worse fates that those even marginally stronger but far less lovely have had to endure.

"Aizen-sama…please don't…"

"Hush now," Aizen soothes, and reaches out to pat Il Forte's hair. "You're lovely."

"Aizen-sama, I…nnnngh!"

Aizen watches as the other Arrankar grasp at Il Forte, as one breaks his arm and twists it behind his back while others yet pull clothes off of him and thrust into him and leer and bite and shatter the surprisingly strong bones inside that lovely-as-a-picture body.

The strong over the weak.

When they're finished, when they've all had their fill and gone on, Il Forte is abandoned on the floor but left alive, and Aizen thinks that he should be thankful that they have allowed him to live again, as…tattered as his existence may now be.

"There, that wasn't so very bad, ne?" Aizen asks warmly, stepping over the naked, quivering mess that remains on the ground.

Il Forte's eyes darken, though all he can say is, "Yes, Aizen-sama," as the shinigami leaves the room.

He can't move, not right off, and as he lies there covered in blood and come and filth, he hears footsteps again, wonders with a snarling kind of hatred, if the weaker ones have come now, to pick his bones clean.

He refuses to suffer such indignity as _that_, lets his spiritual energy gather for a moment before unleashing as menacing an aura as he can muster right now, hoping that it will be enough to scare off whatever vultures have come for him.

"Che. Tiny whimper in a big old echoin' room. Shut the fuck up, damned pathetic puppy."

He sees the shadow of another Arrankar drift over him before moving to sit beside the window.

It's one much stronger than him and he feels his attempt to gather his energy shatter upon realizing that, readies himself to face the inevitable.

"Are you here for more, then?" he asks, managing to keep his voice from cracking.

A snort. "Hell no. I don't fuck such pathetic lookin' pretty-boys. Makes me sick just lookin' atcha."

Il Forte frowns. "What…"

Grimmjow sneers. "You heard me."

At that, Il Forte turns his face to the side so that the countenance leering mockingly down at him seems a little farther away. "There was no way I could have fought them. They were much stronger," he says in his own defense, voice small.

Grimmjow snorts, and it's loud and clear. "So what? You're better off like that? I'da fought the fuckers tooth'n nail. Took a damned ear with me." He pauses, then snickers at Il Forte. "Though probably too delicate for a pretty boy like you, huh? Must be used to it then… feelin' 'em up your ass, in your mouth. Bet you even like that some."

Il Forte clenches his teeth at the jeers, feels real anger boiling up inside of him for the first time in a long time. He hasn't really felt like this since the first time they'd taken his body that way, back before he'd learned to give up and let them have what they want.

Grimmjow feels it too, a real gathering of power now, and he grins. "Well I'll be damned," he mutters, eyes laughing in a way both infuriating and frightening. "Seems like you ain't all looks after all."

"I'm not," Il Forte snaps, without thinking.

Grimmjow sticks his hands in his pocket and turns his gaze out through the window full of the pitch-black nothing that surrounds them. "Alright."

They stay like that for a while, and eventually, Il Forte musters up the strength to sit up, to lean himself against the wall.

Grimmjow leaves some time later without another word, and it takes a full day, but Il Forte manages to make it up and out of that room, to get himself cleaned up.

The next time they grab him, he fights back.

Ends up taking an ear with him during and it only takes a week to fully heal up afterwards.

He takes the ear and throws it at Grimmjow's feet the next time he sees him, and the other Arrankar simply laughs at him and tells him that even though it proves nothing and he's still a good-for-nothing pretty boy, that lone, pathetic little ear is—admittedly-- funny as all hell.

Il Forte smiles back and thinks to himself that even though he knows he's an insect, he might be able to make it from here on out, if he can ride upon a lion's back.

Grimmjow has no idea what the fuck that's supposed to mean when he hears it, but all in all, the ear is pretty hysterical, so he lets Il Forte hang out.

Grimmjow is pretty sure the twerp will never be really strong at all, but at least he's kinda entertaining.

Aizen, in the meantime, lets them be because he knows that young ones have to learn on their own sometimes, when they refuse to listen to the advice of the elders who are looking after them.

Il Forte has a right to his own life, after all.

Whatever it may be.

However short.

**END**


	422. To the Good Old Days

**422.**

**Title:** To the Good Old Days  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, Renji, Iba  
**Word Count:** 998  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei is oppressed!  
**Dedication:** sophiap- your awesome Shuumi was exactly what I needed.  
**A/N: **FLUFF! Because my brain doesn't work in any other way right now. I should work on requests I owe, but I couldn't help myself on this one, okay. :P

* * *

Their shoes are lined up by the doorway now, and the randomly scattered papers, books, knickknacks and containers-previously-filled-with-alcohol are neatly stacked, shelved, arranged and trashed respectively.

There used to be a low table in the middle of the room with a big water ring stained into the surface from one of those nights where he'd been too drunk to use a coaster (not that he did when he was sober), but that old piece of furniture has long since been tossed along with his empty booze bottles, replaced by a cherry-oak table with elegantly carved legs and a glossy finish. He's been threatened with swift and exacting doom should he ever deign to try anything that would leave a drop of water on it, let alone a whole ring.

He uses coasters now and takes his bottles out to the rubbish bin when he's finished with them.

He's already experienced the swift and exacting doom that leaving around beer cans provokes after all, and to be honest, he isn't eager to ever relive the experience.

He tries to tell himself that this is still _his_ place, that he shouldn't be afraid or ashamed to live in it how he pleases, but he supposes that's just a stall tactic, an infinitely ineffective way his brain uses to try and cope with the fact that half the furniture at his place now hadn't been picked out by him.

There's two toothbrushes in the bathroom now too, and a dresser that had started with him leaving one drawer empty and has long since evolved into him giving up on trying to find space in it, Shuuhei moving all his clothes out so that it can hold Yumichika's veritable division-load of haberdashery.

His closet is experiencing a similar fate as of late.

Possibly worst of all was when he came home one evening to find all the dirty magazines Iba and Renji had given him over the years (he'd never bought any _himself_ of course…) in a big, flaming heap in his backyard.

It had still been burning when he'd discovered it, but he'd known what it was the moment he saw it if only for the fact that he'd been forced to watch a very familiar (very dear) set of tits go up in smoke.

Yumichika hadn't said a word about it, sat Shuuhei down and presented him with one of the best damn meals the vice-captain had ever had and asked about work instead.

Shuuhei doesn't remember when, exactly, Yumichika stopped going back to his place altogether.

Probably somewhere around the time Shuuhei had come home to find his room rearranged and a double bed in the place of his old single, one half with his pillow on it and the other half with something much more comfortable looking.

_Everything_ on Yumichika's side of the bed is more comfortable than his, which is why he wonders at always waking up with them crowded on his half, the other man draped all over him and he skirting the edge but finding that he doesn't really mind either way.

They've only fallen off once after all, and he'd managed to maneuver them so Yumi landed on him and not the floor when they did.

The guys tease him about losing to a sneaky, underhanded invasion by a more powerful enemy force, about having his bachelorhood stolen from him without him even realizing.

Which, he supposes, is true enough.

But they tease him a lot less when they're in the middle of a long dry spell, complaining nonstop while he sits in his corner-- smug and happy-- daydreaming about a soft, pliant body sighing under his and the taste and touch and warmth of having someone there every night who doesn't mind waking up to wandering hands and lips, who doesn't mind quick and methodical and silent during the mornings when that's all they've got time for before work.

And even still, he doesn't mind the teasing so much when they do do it, knowing the difference between what he'd had and what he's got. What he used to have to do and what they still do.

They've got dates they've got to buy dinner for, got to open doors and pull out chairs for, to cover bar tabs for, to remember the names of, to have to owe one of the other guys for distracting her ugly friend for.

All that and the guys still laugh at him, tell him _he's_ the conquered territory.

He's been _defeated_, they say. _Oppressed_.

"Went down without so much as a damned fight. Had your good old days taken just like _that._"

Shuuhei grins at his friend and sips his sake (his first and last bottle of the night) before raising his eyebrows, and looking across the bar at Iba, who's chatting up a pretty thing with big eyes and long curls. His eyes shift to the girl sitting next to her, the friend with the skull-and-crossbones tattoo and the beer belly that pops out from under her top just a hint. "Your turn to wingman tonight, right?"

Renji glares. "Fuck you."

Shuuhei grins, raises his cup high and toasts his redheaded companion—the one who's managed to escape the oppression, who's still a free man. "To the good old days."

Abarai grunts but can't say anything because Iba's giving him the signal then, and that means he's got to smile and play nice.

Renji gets decked by the tattooed friend three minutes in and all he and Iba have to show for their efforts tonight are a black eye and both ladies storming out of the establishment in a huff.

Shuuhei orders ice from the bartender like the good guy he is and doesn't laugh out loud at either of them.

When he goes home (early), he tells Yumi about it, and his lover snickers accordingly before pulling Shuuhei onto the bed and asking if he's very tired yet.

He's not, as it turns out.

**END**


	423. Love Story

**423.**

**Title:** Love Story  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IsshinxRyuuken  
**Word Count:** 876  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Isshin and Ryuuken had different philosophies.  
**Dedication:** seca- her request over at my lj! Also for swinku, because I luffs and misses her truly.  
**A/N: **The prompt was "first date" though that kind of ran away from me in this one, I think. O.o

* * *

He grew up believing that love stories had a certain amount of romance to them.

He abided by that belief too-- as best he could anyway-- though he never really considered himself romantic. He showed up at her door with flowers and shook her father's hand and had her home five minutes before curfew. He asked her to marry him on bended knee during a moonlit walk and when she'd laughed at him and said yes, he thought it was the most romantic thing in his life.

His very own love story, he supposed.

Some love stories end tragically—he knew that now too.

When she died he had Uryuu left and comforted himself with the fact that she lived on in the son she'd brought in the world. Sometimes he thought she lived on in their child a little too much though, when he looked at Uryuu and saw him dreaming with big wide eyes and being everything but sensible and pragmatic.

Uryuu had her idealism and his single-mindedness, and sometimes that wasn't always a good thing.

Ryuuken had figured at that point, that that was simply the end of his love story. Romance, tragedy, and a son who perhaps loathed him (or perhaps didn't care about him either way), but who definitely didn't understand him.

The end.

Isshin didn't believe in endings.

He grew up believing that all stories had parts of them that went on after the credits rolled but that were just never told to the general public.

He definitely abided by that belief too—with all of his heart—and didn't let other people get away with being close-minded about the topic either.

One evening he showed up at Ryuuken's door with flowers and flung his arms around him in enthusiastic greeting. He brought the other doctor home at the end of the night but it wasn't _his_ home, and Ryuuken will never forget the looks on Karin and Yuzu's faces when they'd woken up in the morning to find Ryuuken trying to locate his belt and creep out of the Kurosaki household as discretely as possible.

They'd had breakfast together—the five of them-- and it was possibly the most awkward thing in his entire life. Isshin had been grinning (leering) at him from the other side of the table while he tried to very politely eat Yuzu's wonderful breakfast as quickly as possible before dashing off to work. Karin seemed nonplussed and Ichigo had only given everyone strange looks before grabbing his bag and heading to school with a dazed look in his eye.

Isshin had driven him to work afterwards, and he'd had a bento lunchbox specially made by Yuzu to take to the office with him.

At that point, Ryuuken supposed that his story hadn't ended quite like he thought it had.

The idea left him vaguely horrified every time he pondered it, especially given that he considered himself much too old for this.

He ignored Isshin for weeks afterwards as best he could—the first date had been an inadvertent agreement made on his part in a desperate attempt to shut the singing Kurosaki up in the middle of a medical conference's exhibition hall— but regardless, Isshin didn't believe in endings and absolutely didn't let other people get away with being close-minded about the topic either.

His office was inundated with flowers and his answering machine subject to the constant harassment of cheesy recited poems and shrieked exclamations of Ryuuken's name for some time thereafter.

Ryuuken used to believe that love stories involved romance.

He supposed his world view might have been a bit constrained back then.

Because now he knew—courtesy of Kurosaki-- that love stories also involved a certain amount of insanity, chaos, distaste, and rampant mortification.

As well as badly written poems and the constant irritation of his sensitive pollen allergies.

In short, he was beginning to learn that sometimes, love stories were just ridiculous. Plain as that.

These shifting paradigms in philosophy could all be written off as caused by Isshin's greatly exaggerated sense of idealism and single-mindedness perhaps, but even still, Ryuuken was—as much as he didn't want to be sometimes-- the type of person who learned with each passing experience. The inevitably practical side of his personality, maybe.

And the experiences of the past few months were telling him that he'd been a little bit wrong before perhaps, in thinking that love stories just ended.

There was still romance of course, still tragedy in many. And in his case, there was still the son who may or may not loathe him but who definitely didn't understand him.

But, he supposed, he could admit that not all love stories just ended there.

There were parts that went on after the credits rolled, ones that just weren't ever told to the general public.

And while he could admit that maybe Isshin had been right about that fact, he comforted himself with the knowledge that he was sure those other parts weren't told for a _reason_.

He was fairly certain _Tristan and Isolde_ would have been a much less moving love story if it had involved some of the more lewd poems Isshin insisted on reciting to him in bed, after all.

**END**


	424. Learning the Steps

**424.**

**Title:** Learning the Steps  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 996  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc and OOCness up the wazoo, but I've been feeling weird about my writing lately. O.o  
**Summary:** Shuuhei's got a great teacher.  
**Dedication:** Sophiap- for your prize drabble!  
**A/N: **The prompt was "two steps forward, one step back"- I kind of took some liberties with it? Sorry! XD

Sometimes, Shuuhei thinks he's being taught to dance.

One two, one two, left, right, backwards, forwards, dip, spin, cha-cha-cha.

Sometimes, Shuuhei thinks he can't quite keep up.

One, two, one two, dodge left, feint right, flip back, duck, parry, parry, thrust, miss.

Ow.

"Ow."

Clucking at him then, half-amused and all unrepentant. Tender hands on his face and a soft, sweet tongue on his collar, right at the spot where Fujikujaku had drawn a thin line of blood.

Punishment for not following the rhythm maybe. For being unable to quite keep up.

Beauty with sharp edges, that sword. Not unlike its owner, really.

Shuuhei grunts. "I'm alright."

Bright eyes laugh up into his, and that means the two pink spots on his cheeks are there (like always) even though he'd tried his damdest to not let them blossom when he'd spoken just now.

There's one last, lingering lap of tongue against his skin anyway, and then a kiss on top of the wound for luck. "Mmm, you taste good anyway. Nice and clean." A giggle.

Shuuhei knows he's being teased then, knows that despite their appearances, he's the less battle-hardened of the two, the most naïve.

The idealistic one.

He hasn't seen men slaughtered over something as simple as a pair of shoes before after all, hasn't watched people act their worst—violent and cruel and angry-- just because the world in which they'd lived had taught them to be like that and no other way.

Hisagi Shuuhei has never fought for fighting's sake, though he's been in his fair share of battles. Never for himself, for his own joy or pride or benefit. He fought for ideals. For duty, for honor, for his captain, for that elusive thing called _good_.

Just like Tousen-taichou had always said.

Fight for the greater good.

And for a while, that's what he thought he'd been doing.

He'd never fought because he'd felt like it, because he was strong and he could. Things like that were frowned upon. "Unjust." Like Tousen-taichou said.

He'd been made to believe in an ideal world-- someone else's rules.

Dancing to a tune he didn't understand, maybe. Or moving when he didn't know the right steps…both worked.

"Maa, just because you won't hit a person from behind doesn't mean that they'll extend the same courtesy to you, my lovely."

He scowls at the teasing tone as best he can but knows those two pink spots on his cheeks are there even still. "I know."

"Mmm, do you?" a gentle, placating kiss to his cheek, Yumichika's panted breath in his ear. "Would you be able to slit someone's throat from behind, I wonder? Or reach around and snap their neck before they saw you if you had to?"

He knows the words to this part of the song thus far, at least. Has heard it lots of times from that petal-soft mouth.

Fight to survive. Fight to be strong.

Fight because you can.

Fight for yourself.

Make your own rules.

Shuuhei swallows. Grits his teeth. "I would if I had to."

"My sweet love," Yumi sighs, and lashes out again.

Two steps back, a parry, a feint, a lunge.

Yumichika spins and laughs and slips right out of the vice-captain's attack like water between his fingers. Shuuhei wonders if he's in trouble or something, if he's gotten in too deep when he feels something like joy pierce his heart at the sound of that beautiful, mocking laughter, when he feels anticipation at the prospect of catching and crushing such a dangerously lovely flower between his hands.

Just because he could.

Sometimes, Shuuhei thinks he's beginning to learn how to dance.

He's got a good teacher.

Yumichika is a man who, despite his looks, has fought for the mere sake of fighting a hundred thousand times. He's destroyed men because he could, has battled for his own sake and no one else's. He fights and dances like they're one and the same.

His own blade, his own pride.

And oddly enough, underneath it all, his own ideals.

A man who makes his own universe.

Tells it how to spin just like he wants and doesn't have a Tousen-taichou to convince him how it ought to be done.

Right now, Shuuhei's blood is on his tongue and there's the same flush on his cheeks he gets when the two of them fucking right before bed, or right before work, or just because. Only difference between that and this is it's not the sound of Yumichika's breathless moans and hoarse shouts splitting the space between them now, just the explosive clash of their blades making love in the pre-dawn air.

Shuuhei's heart rate speeds up and he can feel his blood pounding in his ears like drums. Can feel the cold air hitting that tender spot on his chest where he'd been cut and it throbs in time with the rest of the world.

Two steps forward, one step back, pivot, duck, wait, wait, wait, grasp, thrust, pin.

A sharp hiss from Yumi then, when Shuuhei's zanpakutou pricks into the skin on the side of his milk-white throat, draws forth just one drop of blood onto that flawless surface.

"Mmmm," the smaller man murmurs, and smiles like he does after he comes.

Shuuhei grins at that—pride, joy, _self_-- and Yumi sees it.

Loves it.

"Now you're getting it, my sweet."

"Yeah?"

A move like lightning, the feeling of the earth reaching up to meet him as he falls.

Then the wind is rushing out of his lungs and pale, deceptively delicate-looking fingers are wrapped around his throat.

The face of an angel gazes down at him and smiles like hell.

"Yeah. You really are."

Hisagi laughs and pulls him down then, kisses Yumi hard enough that the vice-captain can taste his own blood on that wicked little tongue.

They both smile into it and Shuuhei can't help but think that step by step, he's learning how to dance.

**END**


	425. Victimization

**425.**

**Title:** Victimization  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 900  
**Warning/s: **Er, no real spoilers for anything save the OVA. XD Also, OOCness and blatant out-of-practice stupidity on my part. --;;  
**Summary:** Yachiru's got a great and deadly power.  
**Dedication:** My MS peeps- Thank you for sort of keeping me sane over the last few days. XD;;  
**A/N: **Once again, the OVA ending is revisited. XD I will work on the fic requests I still owe eventually, once I am less braindead. SORRY for the wait! I just can't really write anything of substance until my brain stops short-circuiting on this film school crap. --;;

* * *

To be fair, he isn't the only one who falls for it. 

Yumichika can call him a softie (or whatever big words the pretty boy is using nowadays) all he likes, but the little fruitcake sneaks her sweets when he thinks no one's paying attention too, likes buying pretty little things for her hair before writing it off with a prissy little sniff, saying that he'd bought them simply because he felt that need for fukutaichou to look more presentable.

And Ikkaku is just as bad—spoils her rotten with piggyback rides and fishing trips and letting her get all the good looking targets when they go off to start a bar fight together.

Kenpachi knows he ain't the only one who falls for it.

Cute little kid with a big old smile and bright eyes and laughter that sounds equal parts sweet and evil?

Gets everyone a little bit—can't be helped, really. Zaraki doesn't understand why everyone's always gettin' on _his_ case about it though, 'specially when it ain't just him who's doin' it.

Hell, he's seen Komamura give a long-suffering sigh and let her tug on his whiskers or pull his tail all she likes, probably seen it about as often as he's seen that pretty, pretty princess Kuchiki-sama buy her manju and candy and takoyaki when the old stick-in-the-mud thinks no one's looking.

Ukitake lets her braid his hair and Shunsui, lazy as he is, always seems up for a rousing game of "steal sleepy-san's hat." Even that fatso Oomaeda doesn't mind giving up a cookie or two when big, curious eyes and a sweet little voice inquire, "Ne, ne, Buddha-kun, whatcha eatin'? Is it good?"

Iba uses her as his good luck charm whenever he's out rollin' the dice, tells her to blow into his fist before he lets 'em rip and hopes some of that luck of hers helps him back to that last paycheck he'd blown earlier. Treats her to ice cream afterwards when it works, and when it doesn't, he manages to scrape up enough outta the bottom of his pockets to do it anyway.

Hisagi lets her doodle in his office when she's got the yen for it, and she likes the sound of his voice enough that she's always askin' for a story from him that she can illustrate to as he talks. He doesn't even twitch too much when she runs over the lines of the paper and leaves permanent etchings of "the time when Frilly-brows beat you up good!" all over his floor.

There're probably a hundred other like examples that he ain't ever seen or heard of to add to that little list too.

Ain't like he keeps an eye on her 24-7 or anything like that.

But the point is, it ain't just him who's doin' it. He's got tons of proof on that count, even. And yet, there's still…

"Ah, Zaraki-taichou, how absolutely adorably _fatherly_ of you! It's inspired parenting, really!"

"Heh, ain't that sweet? Why, yer bein' absolutely sweet there, taichou. Brings tears to my eyes just watchin' you two all two-of-a-kind like ya are."

Kenpachi grunts and hates that it comes out sounding a bit helpless. "Shaddup."

"And then wear this one next, Ken-chan? It's nice, right? Waah, it's nice! Don't you think it's nice?"

Zaraki blinks and very slowly takes the big, leather studded jacket Yachiru's picked out—the one that sort-of matches the frilly little number she's got on now—and the eleventh division captain can't help but feel a small twinge of dread at the thought of going out in public wearing that. "Ur…yeah. It's real… nice."

She beams at him, all bright eyes and big smile and sweet—yet evil—laughter.

He sighs and takes the coat at that, slowly shrugs it on while Yumichika and Ikkaku continue laughing at him with their eyes from some distance away.

"Aaah, all done! I did good, right?"

"Of course you did, fukutaichou. Ken-chan looks quite…impressive."

"Pffft, yeah. He looks great, fukutaichou."

She beams at them at the praise before turning back to Kenpachi. "Ne, ne, Ken-chan, can I dress baldy-head and frilly brows next? Ne, can I?"

Despite his ridiculous get up, Zaraki can't help but grin a little bit when the other two catch wind of that and abruptly stop their infernal snickering.

"I think that'd be right nice of you to do, Yachiru," he says, a decidedly wicked glint in his eye. "Inspired, or sweet, or somethin'."

"Waaaai!"

He watches her bound off towards his hapless subordinates then, and even though he's in this ridiculous leather type outfit thing now, at least he can look forward to the knowledge that he ain't the only one who'd fallen for it.

Rate she's going, _nobody's_ gonna get off scot-free.

Kenpachi supposes that if they're all gonna look like idiots come their impending vacation time, he can at least take comfort in the fact that no matter _how_ the other two get made up by the little pink terror, he'll still be the most bad-ass lookin' of the lot in the end.

That decided, he plods after Yachiru and the two idiot twins in the hopes of bein' helpful.

"Oi, Yachiru, that fishnet thing might look good on Yumi's droopy-eyed pet pup, whaddya think?"

"Oooh, yeah! Good thinkin' Ken-chan!"

"Mou, taichou!"

"An' what about this fer Ikkaku, eh?"

"Heee, okay!"

"Oi, _taichou_!"

**END**


	426. The Beautiful People

**426.**

**Title:** The Beautiful People  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Yumichika (mentioned ShuuxYumi)  
**Word Count:** 639  
**Warning/s: **Mild spoilers for ch 229.  
**Summary:** Yumichika can't stand that bastard.  
**Dedication:** Sid- Haha you buoy me with your adorable charries. XD  
**A/N: **I am still out of practice, which is why I'm writing weird ass crack and getting it out of my system before I try to write anyone's gift drabble. TRUST ME it's better this way. XD;;

* * *

"Have you gained weight? Again?" 

Yumichika grits his teeth. "I…"

His companion twitters and interrupts like it's the most natural thing in the world. The sound makes the shinigami want to do horrific, violent things to… well, other things.

"You know," the other voice continues drolly, "if you keep getting _fatter_ I just won't know what to do with myself! You were suitably attractive when we started out, I suppose, but I've just been getting more and more good-looking while you…well, not to be offensive, my dear, but… I don't think it's a stretch to say that you've been lacking a bit in the upkeep lately, hmmm? Just because one is _married_ doesn't mean one should go so far as to let oneself go completely, don't you think? Especially now that you've lost that first glow of youth—Shuuhei-kun can't possibly abide by such slovenly behavior in his mate, mmm? But more importantly, I would _hate_ to have to find a new master so soon, so please don't force me to. Just an extra lap or two around the headquarters on conditioning days really wouldn't be any harm, so why not try it for both of our benefits?"

Yumichika twitches and wants to snap Fujikujaku in half. But he plays nice because if he wants bankai that means appeasing this narcissistic bastard to the best of his ability. "I…suppose I could do that."

The pretty sword smiles. "Wonderful, my dear. Of course you'll never be _as _lovely as me, but it's a comfort to us both to believe that you might be able to get _close_ if you work hard, ne? Besides, I think it's always nice to have something greater than yourself to aspire to."

It's times like these when the fifth seat is forced to negotiate with his overbearing zanpakutou that he is reminded of _why_ exactly, he makes it a policy to never interact with anyone who could be considered comparably as good-looking as he is.

Yumichika comes out of conversation with his sword a few hours later looking a mixture of frazzled and murderous, and-- most disturbing of all-- feeling _duller _somehow, than he ought to be.

Ikkaku spots him first from where he's been waiting (healing, since Hozukimaru took a bite out of his ass), and dragging himself to his feet, Madarame makes his way over to see how things went for his friend.

When Yumichika sees him and breaks into a brilliant, vaguely manic smile however, Ikkaku finds himself taking a physical step backwards at the expression, unable to help but wonder to himself what _the hell_ possibly could have happened in his friend's soul space just now to make him look like _that_.

He's about to ask too, but the fifth seat kills any questions in Ikkaku's throat when, at the sight of the other man's familiar face, the pettier shinigami goes up to him and hugs him with something akin to fierce relief. "You're my best friend, Ikkaku," he declares, sounding oddly sentimental when he does.

"The hell are you doing!" the third chair screeches, desperately trying to wriggle out of Yumichika's unexpectedly firm grasp with something that _might_ have been alarm written all over his face.

Physical contact that isn't violent is the ultimate no-no in the thug handbook of cool badassness, after all.

Yumichika ignores him (nothing new there) and pats Ikkaku's back heartily as he embraces him. "Thank you," he murmurs, sounding very slightly winded.

"Oh my _god _for _what_!"

After a moment, Yumichika regains his composure and manages to stand straight again, releasing Ikkaku (thank _god_)andbrushing invisible wrinkles and dust from his clothes. "Thank you," he repeats, sounding oddly refreshed, "for being so much uglier than me."

Ikkaku blinks.

Decides he really doesn't want to know.

And so, just sticks to saying, "Er, you're welcome."

**END**


	427. Name Calling

**427.**

**Title:** Name Calling  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IsshinxRyuuken  
**Word Count:** 256  
**Warning/s: **Er, spoilers for Ryuuken in a not so spoilery way. Also, crack.  
**Summary:** Ryuuken calls Isshin something he shouldn't have.  
**Dedication:** for laliho- I AM THE SLOWEST WRITER IN THE WORLD?  
**A/N: **Another one of those requests I owe from my lj meme- the request was (sort of): _"IsshinxRyuuken- Sparkles"_. Errrr here goes nothing! XD

* * *

"Stop it." 

He promptly… didn't stop. Continued right on grinning like an idiot, really.

Ryuuken growled. "Oh for god's sake…"

The smile, if possible, grew wider. Isshin was practically _sparkling_.

How perfectly horrific.

"Ryuuuu-chan!"

Ryuuken ignored him, determined to get through breakfast with as little trauma as possible so that he could actually function normally at the hospital today.

"Ne, ne, Ryuuu-chan!"

Ignore, ignore, ignore.

Best policy, really.

He continued to eat his eggs and read his newspaper and no, he didn't need the salt anymore. He was fine as he was. A bubble outside of Isshin's self-deluded universe that didn't need salt for his eggs and hadn't asked for them just now like he had.

"Ryuu-chan, you called me by my first name!"

White noise. It was all white noise.

"Na, na, does that mean I'll get a pet name soon, too? Maa, I'm so excited I can't think…"

Ryuuken began to eat a little bit faster than what he considered strictly healthy.

"Isshi-chan? I-chin? I-chan? My-dear-sweet-love-who-I-can't-live-without?"

Ryuuken twitched. "Kurosaki…"

"Snookums? Snuggie-wuggie? Sweetie-baby-wabie-wuv?"

"_Kurosaki_…"

"Woobie Bear? Sugar-pumpkin-ice-cream sundae-treat?"

Ryuuken sighed. "Isshin."

Isshin's eyes, full of glee, shone back at him adoringly. "Yeeees, my love?"

Ryuuken gritted his teeth. "I called you that…"

"Because you _luuurve _me?"

"Because. I. Didn't. Want. To. Confuse. Anyone. Else." The Quincy gestured around the room to emphasize his point.

At their places around the table, Yuzu, Karin, and Ichigo—all _Kurosakis_ mind-- stared for a bit.

After a moment, Ichigo silently passed Ryuuken the salt and kept eating his toast.

**END**


	428. Everyday Thing

**428.**

**Title:** Everyday Thing  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s:** vaguely ChadxIshida, vaguely IchixRuki  
**Word Count:** 513  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just rampant OOCness.  
**Summary:** There are different ways of being overprotective of someone.   
**Dedication:** Sherrymarie- I suuuuck for making you wait so long! BUT JOIN US ANYWAY? WE NEED GAN FOR GANxHANA AND CHAD AND ISHI…   
**A/N: **Oh man, SO OUT OF PRACTICE with this pairing. ;; The prompt was: _"ChadxIshida- Overprotective"_. Yeaaaah. XD

* * *

Chad blinks as his yakisoba pan is yanked unceremoniously from between his hands the moment it's taken out of the white convenience store bag he'd brought it to school in. 

"This again?" Ishida asks, and Chad wonders about having heard a figurative sniff at the end of that question.

He briefly wonders how one can _hear_ a figurative sniff exactly, but if it's at all possible, he's sure he's just been privy to the phenomenon.

But perhaps it's not something he ought to bring up. "Lunch?" he asks, instead.

Ishida sighs and pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Really, Sado… this isn't healthy at all. Every day?"

Chad blinks again. "Lunch isn't healthy every day?"

Ishida gives him a look that clearly states he doesn't appreciate the other boy's deliberate obtuseness. "Not something that may or may not have been sitting in that convenience store refrigerator for who knows now long."

"Shelf," Sado corrects, and Ishida looks ten degrees more horrified than he'd been just a moment ago.

The taller boy wonders if the Quincy is in a strong enough state of shock that he might be able to get his lunch back, as that particular kind of yakisoba pan is his favorite. Feeling daring perhaps, he takes the gamble and moves to reach for it, but before he can lay even a finger on it, he finds himself bopped quite thoroughly over the head by the piece in contention itself.

He blinks. Again.

Ishida is clearly still horrified, but apparently not to the point of being unable to control his motor functions.

"Huh," Chad says, and looks mournfully at his bread as Ishida examines it, finds it inedible, and tosses it thoughtlessly at Keigo.

"Woo, thanks, Sado!" Asano whoops when it hits him in the back of the head. He turns and flashes a thumbs up at his taller friend before picking the now limp bread up from the concrete by his side and going back to eating.

Ichigo rolls his eyes. "So what's Chad supposed to eat now, eh?" he inquires deftly around a mouthful of rice.

Ishida's glasses gleam and he moves closer to Chad with his own lunch before moving to unwrap it. "We'll share," he declares haughtily at Ichigo.

Kurosaki makes a disgusted face but doesn't feel like arguing it since it had been his own damned fault for getting involved. "That was his favorite kind," he points out though, for his friend's sake.

Uryuu doesn't seem to really care a whit if it is or isn't Sado's favorite kind of yakisoba pan.

"I'll make him lunch tomorrow." Then, to Chad, "Won't that be nice?"

"Huh." Chad supposes that it doesn't sound very bad as he's allowed to take a bite of one of Uryuu's fried shrimp.

"Way to be whipped," Ichigo snorts in Sado's direction before pausing to set his own lunch down and help Rukia stick the straw into her juice box, the petite shinigami having been shaking the drink at him rather impatiently for a good ten seconds now.

Chad chews his shrimp.

"Huh."

**END**


	429. White Lies

**429.**

**Title:** White Lies  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kira, Renji, Shuuhei (vaguely ShuuxYumi)  
**Word Count:** 643  
**Warning/s: **Again, vague spoilers for the crack-ass OVA ending, but nothing else I can really imagine.  
**Summary:** Vaguely related to #425 (Victimization)- Shuuhei's friends are beacons of warmth and comfort. Really.  
**Dedication:** pyrefly- I are slow and retarded! Sorry!  
**A/N: **Woo, whittling down this request list! This one was: _"369- Honesty is overrated"._

* * *

"Uh yeah. Lookin' good there, Hisagi." 

"Yes. Very nice, senpai." Kira laughed then, and it sounded awkward and horrible.

Renji elbowed him surreptitiously in the side, all the while keeping his smile plastered on his face. "You'll ah, you'll be nice'n cool durin' the trip, I s'pose."

"I'm um. I'm sure Yumichika-san only picked out the best sort of outfit for you, senpai. He's got very good taste. Aheheh…"

Shuuhei looked at his shirt skeptically. "I don't know, it doesn't…"

"Suits ya fine. Hear it's hot over on the other side anyway."

Hisagi blinked. "Yeah?"

Kira nodded vigorously, though he knew nothing particular about the subject himself. "I um, I'm sure it's fine! B-besides, if Yumichika-san picked it out for you, you'd best um, well… you know. You'd best…"

"Put it on with a smile," Renji finished with something akin to a teasing grin. "Don't wanna be in the dog house, do ya?"

Hisagi's countenance fell very slightly at the thought. "No, I guess not. I just… I don't feel…" Uncomfortably, he reached up and scratched absently at his chest. "It kind of itches," he murmured, in low tones so that only his two friends could hear.

Not that anyone else was around or anything, but it was best to be discreet about these types of things.

Kira leaned forward too, perhaps caught up in the mood of conspiracy. "Maybe you just have to get used to it?" he offered, finally being able to tear his eyes away from the awkward monstrosity draped over his senpai's chest. "I mean…"

"Oi, fer the sake of fashion, right?" Renji added, decidedly less caught up in the mood and refusing to lower his voice any. "'Sides, don't want him sulkin' atcha durin' the whole vacation 'cuz you were callin' his taste into question. You know he hates that."

Point, Shuuhei supposed. This was supposed to be a _relaxing_ trip. "I just…this doesn't seem like the sort of thing he'd normally pick out," the dark-haired vice-captain murmured, genuinely perplexed.

"Maybe it's a new fad," Renji shrugged.

"Maybe." Hisagi's brow furrowed. "So it really looks alright?"

"Yeah, looks fine, senpai."

"Yes… it's um… it looks quite light. And um…airy!" Kira echoed, and it sounded choked in the sort of way that suggested maybe he'd had to force the words out very diligently. "I'm sure once you get used to it, it will be very comfortable."

Shuuhei scratched absently at his chest again. "Yeah er, I guess so." After a moment, he shot his friends a relieved smile. "Well, as long as it doesn't look stupid, right?"

This time, it was Renji's turn to make a sort of startled wheezing sound out of his nose. "Oh, er…s'cuse me… allergies." Pause. Deep breath. "But uh. Yeah. Don't look _too_ stupid there, senpai."

"Right," Kira echoed quickly. "Um. Weren't you going to go help Yumichika-san get his bags?"

Shuuhei blinked. "Shit. Right!" and then he was off, with only a "thanks guys!" tossed over his shoulder as he hurried back to the temperamental fifth chair's side.

Admirably, Renji and Kira managed to hold back for a good ten seconds before bursting out into raucous peals of laughter.

Kira, tears in his eyes, was the first to be able to speak again as the two helped to hold each other up.

"I…Renji, I know you wanted…Ahahaha…but instead can I…I mean, I just…I _have_ to…"

Renji, sighed, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands mirthfully. "No, I understand. Go sightseein' with 'em instead. Ehehehe…but ya gotta… you gotta bring me back…ahaha…bring me back pictures."

Kira, still giggling nodded. "Pictures!"

Luckily for Shuuhei, it wasn't until the group was already boarded and moving on the shinkansen that Izuru was recovered enough to think to ask what a picture _was, _exactly.

Unluckily for Shuuhei, Matsumoto had it all taken care of already.

**END**


	430. Collapsed

**430.**

**Title:** Collapsed  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly, but-not-really ChadxIshida  
**Word Count:** 375  
**Warning/s: **Just OOCness… don't think there are any actual plot spoilers to warn for. XD  
**Summary:** It's a faulty recipe.  
**Dedication:** for Christine- because bribing me is easy. XD  
**A/N: **The request was: _"ChadxIshida- Cooking Incident,"_ in honor of my roommate's incredible collapsing cake. XD My Chad voice is obviously weird and my Ishida voice has suddenly gone uber-dorky. O.o

* * *

"What is it?" 

"Cake," Sado responds, and when he says it, it's so flat Ishida isn't sure if his companion is being terribly ironic or completely serious.

"Cake?" he echoes, adjusting his glasses and squinting more deliberately at the pile of what appears to be collapsed packing foam. He takes his glasses off after a moment to clean them with his shirt—maybe some smudges had been impairing his vision. "Are you sure?"

As if it explains everything, Chad motions to the empty box on the counter next to the unfortunate steaming mound. "Cake," he reiterates.

Uryuu supposes that the box does indeed say "Vanilla cake" on it; in fact, it has the Betty Crocker logo quite convincingly printed across the top.

"Hmmm," the Quincy says, and can't really move to say much else.

"I think it went wrong," Sado muses aloud after a very long moment of silence between them.

Ishida, relieved at having been given an outlet, agrees. "Clearly the recipe is faulty," he declares, and pats Chad comfortingly on one shoulder.

Chad pauses. "By the way…" he says, slowly, "what's the difference between baking powder and baking soda?"

Ishida adjusts his glasses again. "A faulty recipe," he repeats, and pats Chad again on the shoulder like a confirmation.

"Hmm," Chad murmurs, but doesn't press the issue.

After a moment, Chad puts his hand on top of Uryuu's hair and ruffles it a bit. "I made it for you," he says, simply.

Ishida sighs (albeit fondly) at him and doesn't even mind that his hair is getting quite disheveled. "I'll write Betty Crocker an angry letter," he promises. "Faulty recipe."

"Hmmm," Chad grunts again, though there's a hint of a smile on the larger boy's face that Uryuu may or may not be imagining. That done, the Quincy pushes his glasses up one last time before stepping forward and very innocently tipping the empty cake mix box into the trashcan. The unfortunate result-of-a-faulty-recipe soon follows.

"We'll go to a coffee shop for tonight," Ishida recommends. "I'll treat."

Chad's almost-smile broadens into something that is akin to a grin (for him) at the sage suggestion. "Happy birthday."

Ishida smiles back and with his foot, discretely nudges the trashcan more towards the wall. "Thank you."

**END**


	431. Driving Blind

**431.**

**Title:** Driving Blind  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 572  
**Warning/s: **Fluff! But no spoilers I can really think of. I bet this whole thing doesn't even make a lick of sense.  
**Summary:** Yumichika keeps Shuuhei on his toes.  
**Dedication:** electify and chibify- I'm sorry I'm such a stalker. XD Well, sort of sorry. KEEP IT UP PLEASE. Also for sophiap- I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO YOUR SHUUMI ANGST. I imagine I will cry like a little baby. ;;  
**A/N: **Blah Shuumi has kind of been eating my brain and at the same time, _not_ lately. I think I've passed my prime for writing it or something, especially knowing there are others out there who do it so much better than me. That of course, makes me unbelievably happy, and at the same time, feeling like I should leave my OTP in more capable hands. SO TORN.

* * *

He's learned not to expect anything from Yumichika. 

To do so only leads to folly, to the possibility of being relegated to couch duty for a week or two and lots of expensive presents by way of apology to earn his way back to bed.

If Yumichika is the ocean under a full moon tide then Shuuhei is a lone man on the haphazardly strung together log raft caught unawares in the middle of it.

Best to just hold on silently and hope that the maelstrom doesn't tip his dingy over, ending the journey right there.

It's taken him a while to realize this of course, but he's learned eventually, that it's best to never expect _anything_ from the other man.

Expectations are exactly the sort of thing Yumi likes to crush between well-manicured fingers, twittering all the while.

Well, that just figures.

Shuuhei has discovered many things in this vein, has discovered for example, that carefully crafted words of love and adoration at best, will only earn him a giggle—"_you're silly"—_and maybe a placating kiss on the forehead and some good-natured ribbing afterwards.

In contrast, mindless words in moments of stupid honesty seem to garner the most delight. One time he'd made—right after orgasm mind—a half-coherent comment murmured dazedly against the curve of Yumichika's shoulder:--_"Heh, like how you smell after… 's still you, but it's _me_ too"-- _ earning him the most dazzling smile, breakfast in bed, and the best damn good-morning ride he'd ever had.

Completely unpredictable.

Unbelievable.

Similarly, it's little things that bring his lover to a blind rage— Shuuhei not using a coaster, Shuuhei tracking mud in, Shuuhei letting the mochi go stale—while it's the bigger things—Shuuhei refusing to hold hands in public, Shuuhei gazing at Matsumoto's chest, Shuuhei forgetting an anniversary— that can more easily be placated with a simple, heartfelt apology and a kiss.

It's a real driving blind situation, as Ikkaku likes to call it.

"It'll take me _eternity_ to figure him out," Shuuhei had declared one day at the bar after having been very decisively extricated from the house for once again, forgetting to take the rubbish out to the bin in time for trash day.

Ikkaku, having volunteered to keep the other man company at said bar for the five of six hours it would take for Yumichika to cool down, had snorted in laughter at his friend's despondent, slightly tipsy announcement. "Forever, huh? Maybe that's exactly what he's goin' for," he'd suggested, half in jest.

Joking or no, Shuuhei had found himself stopping unexpectedly at that possibility, blinking incredulously to himself as he mulled his friend's words over. "You think?"

"Che. Wouldn't put it past him," Ikkaku grunted, halfway through another cup. "He's a wily bastard."

Hisagi, despite the fact that he was very obviously banned from his own home for the time being, remembers that his face had split into a slow grin as realization had dawned, and heartily, he'd bought the next two or three rounds for himself and his friend with something akin to a jovial heart.

Ikkaku hadn't complained of course, just drank the alcohol and asked, "The hell's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

The dark-haired vice-captain had merely smiled enigmatically and decided that he was officially the luckiest shinigami in all seireitei.

Because if forever's the case, Shuuhei can't say that he minds Yumichika's methods very much at all.

**END**


	432. A Weight

**432.**

**Title:** A Weight  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ryuuken, Uryuu  
**Word Count:** 484  
**Warning/s: **Um, not really, I guess. Though rampant speculation on my part.  
**Summary:** The Quincy are dead.  
**Dedication:** kshi- Haha you are the biggest Ishida fan I know? XD  
**A/N: **I should be writing the fic I _owe_, but this hit me and I figure, screw it, I've done _most_ of the requests anyway. Right. Totally working on your YYH though Ann, I swear! You just know it's harder for me to write YYH as fast as Bleach. But anyway.

* * *

"The Quincy are dead." 

He takes great care not to look at the boy's face when he tells him that simple fact, goes through the motions of flipping through a book or a sheave of papers on his desk when it comes to this familiar nonsense again.

Uryuu has large, sad eyes and a weight on his young shoulders that no little boy ought to bear.

Ryuuken thinks—hopes—that he can lift that burden from his son before much longer, before his grandfather's foolishness can seep in too deep and rob Uryuu of peace, as it had him many years before.

"They're not…"

"There is no purpose," Ryuuken continues blankly, adjusting his glasses and pushing the book in his hand back onto the shelf-- blindly perused. "The shinigami were created to battle Hollows." A breath, then eyes sliding slowly over that tiny form she fought with her last breath to bring into this world. "Little boys should do their schoolwork."

Uryuu's gaze is instantly averted when his father looks at him, to the ground or the round tips of impossibly small little-boy sneakers.

Ryuuken sighs, and though it sounds long-suffering to Uryuu, to the older Quincy it is more a father's prayer—_ if he must, I hope the worst thing he will ever bow his head to is me_.

He does not want the weight of an entire race upon so tiny a pair of shoulders.

It is a responsibility much too heavy to bear, and Ryuuken has learned with time and wisdom— drops of his idealism slowly seeping from the wounds on his body out across the floor—that one cannot heft this tremendous weight by himself.

Those dearest pay as well, share in the burden whether they wish to or not, and Ryuuken will not have Uryuu know the pain of losing someone precious because he is something as trite as "last of the Quincy."

She'd smiled at him back when they'd both had ideals—"_People need you… a real hero"_— beaming up at him with wide eyes that couldn't possibly understand while the weight had slowly crushed her.

A hero to all but those who truly mattered perhaps, and looking at Uryuu now, small and delicate and as wide-eyed as she had been, Ryuuken can't help but vow to himself that he won't allow himself to fall to the same folly twice.

Now, the only burden Ryuuken truly wants is fatherhood.

And all he wants for the sad-eyed little boy who is scuffing the toes of his shoes against the floor is _childhood_.

"Uryuu, please cease your fidgeting and go to your studies. Use your energies productively."

"Yes, father."

Ryuuken, watching him go from the corners of tired eyes, slides another book-- flipped through but unseen—into its rightful place on his shelf.

The Quincy are dead.

And in their place, Ryuuken hopes that his wide-eyed little boy will survive.

**END**


	433. And in this Corner, the Challenger

**433.**

**Title:** And In This Corner, the Challenger  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira, hints of GinxKira   
**Word Count:** 825  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the SS arc. And OOCness, but whatever. --;;  
**Summary:** The Eleventh Division doesn't tolerate losers.  
**Dedication:** swinku- You are such a busy bunny! XD;; sends kisses  
**A/N: **I dunnooo I'm just uninspired lately. --;;

* * *

Maybe he hates that nostalgic look in Izuru's eye more than he lets on. It annoys the shit out of him sometimes, to walk into a room and see the blond staring out the window-- half sad and half wondering-- because that means he's thinking about Ichimaru again—what taichou's doing, what he's thinking, is everything really okay like this?— and it's not something Ikkaku can physically fight. 

Can't wrap his hands around it or pound a fist into it like he wants, like he's used to when confronted with something that pisses him the hell off.

Nobody's neck to wrangle save his own, maybe.

Annoying.

"Hey, whatcha thinkin' bout?" is all he can do by way of battle, and sometimes he wins—when Kira turns and that lost look in his eye dissipates and he smiles instead, says, "Hey," back and lets Ikkaku wrap around him like a blanket. Sometimes Madarame loses though, and when he does, Kira still smiles, but it's like Ikkaku can see through the other man when he does, and all that he can do about it is squeeze Izuru's shoulder maybe, or knuckle his temple.

Going in, he never knows if he's going to come out on top when he's in one of those battles, and that's not a feeling he's ever had before.

Every fight he's been in, live or die, Ikkaku knew upon going in, that he'd come out on top one way or another. Even if it killed him.

Now the pain isn't physical _exactly_, isn't anything caused by a fist in the gut but feels just about the same.

He's never felt so thoroughly pummeled before. Not even after that first fight with Zaraki.

Whenever Yumichika sees the hang-dog expression on Ikkaku's face that lets the pretty shinigami know that his friend has lost the last battle, he twitters obnoxiously and counts Madarame's internal wounds as absolutely nothing. "Time to even the score, ne?" the shorter man suggests today, sweeping through Ikkaku's brooding like it's of little consequence beyond the fact that it makes the room a bit dirty. "We can't let you keep a losing record in this division, after all."

"Yeah," Ikkaku replies after a minute of thought.

And then he forgets about being despondent.

Brush himself off and pick up the challenge again—he can't sit there being defeated and feeling sorry about it. Ain't the way of the eleventh.

Important things are at stake here after all, and Ikkaku's always been an all or nothing kind of guy.

So he squares his jaw and marches right up to that sad-eyed blond looking out the window, an eleventh divisioner through and through, intent on kicking some serious ass or go down trying.

"Hey," he says (or barks rather, because if he tries it any other way it sounds awkward and horrible).

And Kira blinks at him when his sad thoughts are interrupted, even smiles a bit. "Hey," Izuru echoes, and while the sadness that had been on his face just now fades just a little bit at seeing the other shinigami, Ikkaku can still see remnants in big blue eyes.

Like a punch in the face.

Fine, he's gone through worse. One hit isn't going to down him—no way.

He wraps his arms around the smaller man then, rests his chin on a delicate, vaguely slumped shoulder. "What're you up to?"

"Just…thinking, I guess," Kira murmurs, and lets Ikkaku hug him though he doesn't do anything in response to it.

"'bout what?"

"Nothing important."

A kick to the stomach now, and though Ikkaku cringes, he remains standing through a spectacular show of determination. "Ichimaru?" he pushes, and congratulates himself when his voice comes out rock steady.

Kira blinks a bit in surprise at that, feels his cheeks turn pink and his eyes turn downward. "Yeah."

A direct hit the chest on that count, and the bald shinigami bites his bottom lip to keep from grunting out loud. "Thinkin' what about Ichimaru?"

A furrowed brow then, full of thought, and Ikkaku braces himself for some sort of finishing blow.

"I just… I guess I…"

The muscles in the third chair's arms and legs tense in unhappy anticipation at that, but he doesn't dare avert his eyes, determined to face this hit head on.

"Well, I guess I just don't miss him as much as I used to."

Pause.

"What, really?"

His vaguely incredulous tone earns him a smile that encompasses big blue eyes and everything else on that beautiful face. "Really."

Boo-yeah.

Ikkaku kisses the other man then—because he can't _not_— grinning victoriously into it the whole time.

Maybe he's a little beaten from it, a little bloody and achy, but damn it all, he can't help but feel like he kicked some serious ass.

And really, he should have expected it all along.

The eleventh division isn't in the habit of losing fights after all.

Especially not ones this important.

**END**


	434. Ideas of Fun

**434.**

**Title:** Ideas of Fun  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 400  
**Warning/s: **THE OOC BURNS?  
**Summary:** Kyouraku-taichou is bored.   
**Dedication:** meiyanohi- sorry it took so long --;;  
**A/N: **Finally, a request I owe. Um. The prompt was _"ShunxJyuu- Fun Sex" _as requested by Mei.

* * *

"Let's do something fun." 

Jyuushirou sighed at Shunsui's telling tone. "This isn't fun?" he posed innocently, knowing that in doing so, he was asking for some sort of violent rebuttal on the other captain's part.

"Fun? How is this fun? Jyuu-chan, I don't believe you," Kyouraku decried, looking as though the other captain had just sounded some sort of death knell for them both with his callous words.

Jyuushirou simply chuckled to himself and kept working. "Maa, it was always our goal to become captains, wasn't it? We always talked about how much fun it would be."

Shunsui groaned. "We were obviously young and naïve," the eighth division leader murmured, looking up from his spot stretched out on the floor to eye his companion. "Tell me, Jyuu-chan, tell me that we're not so old that we've lost the concept of what _real_ fun is."

Ukitake's eyes sparkled just so in response to the question and that look alone was really enough to comfort Shunsui into believing that no, they weren't so old yet.

"What fun thing do you suggest we do then, hmmm?" the white-haired captain asked innocently after a second, not pausing a moment in his paperwork as he did. Years of dealing with Kyouraku's fantastically dramatic whims led him to develop an admirable ability in multitasking.

"_What fun thing_? Must you really ask?" Kyouraku murmured, low in his throat like he'd been waiting for that very question so he could break out that very voice.

Why, if Ukitake didn't know any better he would think that he was being solicited.

Managing not to roll his eyes at the other man's suggestive tone, he finished one pile of papers and stacked them neatly before bothering to respond. "Why, Shun! How could you possibly think that something like _that_ is… fun?"

Kyouraku's face fell at that, and he looked positively wounded. "Jyuu-chan… you aren't saying…"

"Na, Shun…"

The dark-haired captain blinked at being interrupted in the middle of what was going to be a particularly magnificent snit. "Um, yes?"

"Ask me if I want to do something amazing."

Pause.

Blink.

_Oh._

Jyuushirou counted backwards from five in his head (just enough time to finish one more set of signatures) before Shunsui's smile was back full force.

Counted another five seconds before the eighth division captain would do anything about it.

And then, right on cue, "Ne Jyuu-chan….let's do something amazing."

**END**


	435. Superflous

**435.**

**Title:** Superfluous  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Mayuri, Ishida Souken  
**Word Count:** 626  
**Warning/s: **Blatant speculation and probably the futzing of facts here. Also, OOC.  
**Summary:** A younger Kurotsuchi Mayuri is given an opportunity.  
**Dedication:** shinigamikender- HAY LOOK I CAN RAPE YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTER WITH NO CONSCIENCE? --;;  
**A/N: **I should never write Mayuri ever, ever, _ever_. That is all.

* * *

Quincy. 

Textbooks confirm them as a threat no longer- war chronicles and casualty rosters from times of the past describe the means through which the race was (for the most part) annihilated in order to preserve the balance between the living world and Soul Society.

The remaining descendants were too few to be considered a threat after the battle, though the possibility was set aside by authorities in seireitei that should the Quincy reach a certain number again; they were to be forced into giving up their powers or face another culling should they refuse.

The captain of the twelfth division looks down at one of the two remaining Quincy known to Soul Society.

The young man smiles back up at him-- knowing exactly what he is—and does not cower.

"I'm Ishida."

"Hmmm," Mayuri responds, because he doesn't care about a name. A useless, transient thing. What he wants to know is what it is about this sad-looking specimen that could pose a possible threat to the universe.

He knows the facts of the research done in the past of course— basic abilities and the inconclusive evidence that different clans of Quincy held different offensive abilities that were tied both genetically to blood and spiritually by reiatsu. He knows that they destroy Hollows rather than judge them.

It's all very interesting, and not in such a way that would mean that he's suggesting it sarcastically, as his former superior might have declared.

"Leave them be," Urahara had chirruped cheerfully. "Such an unpleasant history, ne, Mayu-chan? I can't think about it without swooning!"

Unpleasant maybe. Fascinating all the same. Hundreds of years since the Quincy were destroyed by the Shinigami and all Mayuri wants to see now is what evolutionary alterations the remaining stray specimens have since undergone.

Isolation, adaptation, integration, change.

Intriguing.

"I'm Ishida," the young man pushes, thinking that the shinigami hadn't heard him just now—that infernal name.

"Superfluous," Mayuri tells him eventually, watching him carefully the whole time. Studying. "Your name means little—I want to know how you tick."

Souken blinks at that. "What's your name?" he asks, pushing glasses up on his nose.

"Of no consequence to you."

"I see," Souken murmurs.

"Use of your powers is forbidden," Mayuri explains. "Justice suggests I should destroy you."

The young man is still unafraid. "Does it?"

"Hmmm," Mayuri repeats, and prepares to destroy in the name of justice so that he might work with what remains in the name of science.

"Then I would be the last," Souken says, simply.

That statement has something inherently relevant to Kurotsuchi Mayuri.

The last.

Annihilation.

The end. No more isolation. Adaptation. Change.

Evolution no longer possible- extinction.

A dilemma.

"Records suggest there is another," Mayuri says simply—lies are always destroyed by the light of concrete factual evidence.

"Ryuuken," Souken says, and smiles. "My son."

"Then you're not the last."

"He's two," Souken continues, as though that means something. "A child."

Youth—abilities inherent. Also the possibility of lying dormant should the proper procedures fail to be undertaken.

Procedure is essential.

"You need to teach him," Mayuri speculates, and stays his hand.

"To perpetuate the race," Souken agrees, and Mayuri supposes that the Quincy is beginning to understand his aims a bit better now.

"Physical maturity of infant humans ranges from but averages to eighteen years."

"For one more generation of Quincy," Souken agrees.

One generation. Insufficient—perhaps unsafe. Unforeseen events (incidents) could possibly cut the life of his research short.

Mayuri sheathes his sword.

"I'll return in two," he states.

Justice can wait.

Science prevails.

"I'll be waiting," Souken responds. "My name…"

"Superfluous."

Mayuri turns and leaves.

Makes a mental note.

_Subject #347_

_Quincy. _

_Male. _

_Return collection date: Approximately thirty four years. _

_Study: Ongoing._

**END**


	436. Absolution

**436.**

**Title:** Absolution  
**Rating:** PG-13 for the inter-cutting of religious philosophizing and a blow job? XD  
**Pairing/Character/s: **AizenxGrimmjow  
**Word Count:** 658  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the current Arrankar arc.  
**Summary:** Grimmjow's penitence.  
**Dedication:** Reki! Happy (late) birthday!  
**A/N: **For Reki's b-day request: _"AizenxGrimm- Sin"._ LIKE I COULD RESIST THAT ONE. Though this came out a bit weirder than I'd imagined. XD

* * *

"That was a bit harsh of him, wasn't it?" Aizen asks in a mild tone when he sees Grimmjow skulking about the halls, still infuriatingly proud despite the punishment he's forced to wear about his physical body, the stigma of imperfection amongst Aizen's chosen children. 

It's tragic for one so young really-- his very own dead albatross.

"I'll speak with him later," the former shinigami captain adds, feeling like he ought to offer what comfort he may despite Grimmjow's earlier folly. "Tousen's righteousness sometimes makes it difficult for him to grasp the bigger picture. He rather fancies himself an angel of justice, I suppose, and doesn't know that the very young don't always do as they're told." And Aizen chuckles there, warm and rich that it makes Grimmjow's skin crawl like the shinigami's physical touch.

"Che. Doesn't matter to me either way,"" the Arrankar grunts, shaking off the feeling of fatherly fingers wrapped around his throat. "Tousen can do as he pleases."

"Ah, forgiveness is an admirable quality. Those who have done wrong themselves and forgive are more likely to be forgiven in turn, after all."

Aizen's voice winds around him then, low tones mixed with high speech and Grimmjow knows that it's not just talk then, that his lord has something more important to impart upon him today than lines read from his little mental book of psalms.

"So I'm gonna be forgiven?" Grimmjow asks, and can't quite keep the bark of skepticism from his voice as he does.

"Is there something you need to ask forgiveness for?" Aizen returns just as easily, pausing beside the young creature he so painstakingly helped to bring into this dark bright world.

Made from his image, shaped with his own two hands and flawed just beautifully.

"How about for things I haven't done yet?" Grimmjow poses, smirking like the devil when he does because he knows he's asking for his punishment now.

Bring it on.

Aizen appears unmoved however, smile still warm as he leans back and looks at the black hole sky philosophically. "I suppose that particular way of going about things is a bit of a puzzle to me," he starts, slowly. "But if that's the path you're going to choose, I suppose there's nothing you can do but ask and see, hmmm? Can't hurt, can it? Maybe if you do it just right, you'll be forgiven either way."

"Huh," Grimmjow grunts, and feels like he's tired of this friendly-façade, this pussyfooting around. The arm was one thing, but then again, being excommunicated by the church and being damned by god himself are two different things altogether.

Time to face the music. "I guess I'd better start askin' for that forgiveness, then, huh?" he says then, and steels himself for whatever it is that's about to befall him.

He watches, muscles tense, as Aizen raises his hand.

Aizen however, simply chuckles to himself in awe and wonder for this particular creation's brilliant, ugly pride, moving to run his raised hand through his hair once before letting it rest gently upon Grimmjow's shoulder. "If you're ready, fall to your knees then, little one, and ask for absolution," he murmurs, fingers squeezing companionably. "God only hears the pleas of those who swallow their pride first, after all."

"Yeah," Grimmjow murmurs with a smirk that's all too sly, all too knowing to be properly repentant.

All the same, feels the grip of his father's hand tighten almost painfully against his skin.

It pushes him down, forces him to his knees and makes him bow his head with the weight of whatever personal justice it is that Aizen abides by.

And as Grimmjow begins to work for his forgiveness, he can't help but think that for those whose pride can't be bent as easily as their bodies may, a war against heaven is the only option left to them.

Besides, absolution is for those who contemplate eternity.

Grimmjow lives for the moment.

**END**


	437. Bonding

**437.**

**Title:** Bonding   
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Isshin, Ichigo  
**Word Count:** 254  
**Warning/s: **Really dumb. And OOC.  
**Summary:** Isshin has many wise things to impart on Ichigo.  
**Dedication:** Haha errrr… anyone with crazy parents? XD  
**A/N: **I dunno. I really don't know.

* * *

"ARGH!" 

Ichigo wraps his hands around Isshin's throat and _shakes_ him as he says that, just to let the bastard know he means business this time.

Isshin flails. "Noo, Iiiiichigo!" he rasps, and then clamps his own hands on top of his son's, moving them by sheer force of will so that they land a bit higher on his throat. That done, he lets go and gives the orange-headed boy a thumbs up and a wink. "Choke daddy like this!"

And just like that, Ichigo feels his seething rage boil down into something akin to stupefaction and disbelief, his grip loosening unconsciously from around the older Kurosaki's neck. "Oh my god, you're so dumb."

Isshin springs up to his feet like one of those creepy inflatable clown-shaped punching bags then, still winking and giving that ridiculous thumbs up. "Father-son-bonding-lesson-number-seven-hundred-and-eighty-one done! YAY!" he declares like he's just leveled up, not sounding at all like he was being choked rather emphatically five seconds earlier.

Ichigo sighs and ambles back towards his room, feeling very, very tired. "Right. I'm going to go cry in my room now."

It's as if he sees some sort of signal light goes off at Ichigo's words, and suddenly, Isshin is lunging after his son again. "Cry into daddy's bosom, Ichi! Father-and-son-bonding-lesson-number-seven-hundred-and-eighty-two! MANLY TEARS OF LOVE!"

Ichigo promptly closes and locks the door behind him, taking a small amount of comfort from the heavy "thunk" he hears on the other side when Isshin's face impacts it full force.

"NICE MOVE, ICHI!"

"ARGH."

**END**


	438. I Walk With Heroes

**438.**

**Title:** I Walk With Heroes  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ryuuken, Uryuu  
**Word Count:** 613  
**Warning/s: **OOC and random speculation on back-story for my part, I suppose.  
**Summary:** Ryuuken thinks she'd had the loveliest smile.  
**Dedication:** Haha anyone who didn't understand their dad until they became adults themselves, I think. --;;  
**A/N: **Yeah, I keep writing the same story over and over again. sigh

* * *

He remembers the joy he'd felt when she's told him the first time, took his hand after a long day at the office and held it to her stomach. "_We're having a baby, Ryuu_." 

Despite his exhaustion he'd smiled and kissed her, picked her up and told her he was very, very happy.

"_You'll be the best father,"_ she'd assured him, months later when he'd voiced his concerns to her in bed, an arm wrapped around her small shoulders as he took strength from her after another hard day, work nine-to-five and Quincy by night.

"_What child wouldn't be proud to grow up amongst heroes_?" she'd added, smiling though she'd sounded more tired than even him.

It had been hard for a young medical school intern to provide for a family on his own at first, and coming to hard times she'd beamed and rolled up her sleeves and assured him that cleaning offices at night was as simple as cleaning a home during the day. Told him that the exercise was good for her.

She'd wanted to do her own part as best she could she'd said, because she was a regular girl living in a family full of heroes.

And, with some bitterness, Ryuuken thinks that it's because of that that Uryuu won't ever know her apart from the scarce pictures they have and the stories his grandfather had told him because he'd been too shy—too afraid maybe—to ask his father about what she'd been like.

Heroes.

A far away ideal—the kind that tramples good people under its feet.

And not something he's willing to let his son experience the hard way—heroes don't make ends meet. Heroes can't pay for school, for food, for a house, for clothes.

He does his best to teach Uryuu so that his son knows the value of these things, that they're important things he can hold in his own two hands.

Because as nice as it all sounds, Ryuuken's discovered that saving people is at cost to yourself and those closest to you.

And ideals won't keep Uryuu from going hungry, won't keep him warm or safe or teach him all the important things he needs to know to survive.

He has to work hard for a good life—focus on his studies and what he wants to do with a future in which he will likely have his own a family to provide for. His own important people to take care of.

"Uryuu, I won't condone anything less than perfect scores on your reports."

"Yes, father."

"Study hard and work diligently-- don't waste your time with pointless things."

"Yes, father."

"Discipline yourself. Get your head out of the clouds and focus on what's important. I won't always be around to make sure your work gets done for you."

"Yes, father. Sorry, father."

He says those things and knows Uryuu hates him for them, that the boy must feel as though his father is going out of his way to be spiteful, to crush all his dreams before he's even begun to realize them.

He doesn't understand that Ryuuken says all those things and really means "_don't become like me."_

He doesn't want anymore heroes. Just to make amends.

Uryuu's mother really had a beautiful smile, he thinks. Ryuuken wishes his son could have seen it for himself, especially for having been the reason behind it so very often.

He'll never be able to make it up to Uryuu for robbing his son of that.

No amount of trying will fix it.

For now, the best Ishida Ryuuken can do is attempt to save Uryuu from becoming just like his father.

**END**


	439. An Experiment

**439.**

**Title:** An Experiment  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Mayuri, Nemu  
**Word Count:** 971  
**Warning/s: **OOC? Yes.  
**Summary:** Mayuri watches her grow up.  
**Dedication:** shini and tsuki- haha watch me do more fave-charry rape!  
**A/N: **Mayu still TOTALLY HARD TO WRITE.

* * *

When he made her, he allotted exactly five days for her to grow up. 

Day one involved learning to walk, to move. She stumbled the first few times and he made her stand again and again without reprieve, hours watching her until he'd lost his patience and gone off to do more productive things while Hiyosu was left to supervise. After the sixth hour she was able to walk towards him with all the grace of a bowlegged goat, but he surmised that for the time being, that would be passable. Her learning rate was far advanced in comparison to the failed prototypes before her, and he made a note of it in his records and trusted that her ability to control motor functions would increase exponentially with time. Her infancy ended after the first twelve hours.

Day two involved speaking and literacy. He gave her books and reports and anything with written words on them. He watched her explore them from a safe distance and wrote his findings down while Akon was forced to speak, enunciate, explain to her until she could do it herself. It took her twice as long to learn how to read as it had taken for her to speak, and speaking in itself came out to be four times as long as walking. Mayuri observed all of this from behind a glass-paneled window and was satisfied if not wholly impressed. She would pick up combat strategies as time went on and he would create special implants to be placed into her brain for more complicated matters as well as to generally increase her overall capacity once he learned the limits said brain had in its original state. Her youth ended after learning more than five thousand kanji.

Day three was one of the more trying, as he'd had to make her self-sufficient. She was showed how to dress herself, feed herself, clean herself. A machine was only useful if it could run without the need of constant supervision after all. Mayuri showed her the basics, and then left her to her own devices once again. She observed Unohana's hair from her window and saw functionality in the design—braided her own hair back so it would not hinder her in performing the tasks Mayuri-sama asked of her. She observed the intake of food by Rin and the others and discovered how to prepare meals for herself, food that would keep her functions up as was necessary. She collapsed from the exhaustion of the past three days exactly 71 hours in and at that moment learned what it was to rest. Mayuri made a note that her progress suggested mid-adolescence.

Day four was when she could finally be of use, and she was given a tour of the facilities in the twelfth division specifically. All the knowledge she would need to be of use to Mayuri was imparted upon her in a shorter amount of time than it had taken her to learn to read and she took in every detail of each area of research fast enough that Mayuri decided that this one was worth keeping, as he'd terminated many of her predecessors upon finding them deficient here, at one of the most important stages of growth. He gave her a name then, because she would need one to answer to given the general acceptance of her existence by the twelfth division captain. As such, Nemu reached young adulthood.

Day five was the final day in which he would go out of his way to teach her anything—from there she would be left to her own devices in regards to the observation, adaptation, and incorporation of new information into her system. She was allowed outside beyond the gates of the twelfth division for the first time. Given basic information on the lay of the land and what to expect from the inhabitants, Mayuri watched from a comfortable distance as she approached others and used what he had taught her over the other stages of her growth. Movement towards. Day one. Speech. Day two. Self-sufficiency—communicating her own thoughts. Day three. Stating and acknowledging her sole function in life. Day four.

Pleased enough with his results this time around, he allowed her to memorize the outlay of seireitei and the hierarchy under which it functioned, telling her that her role in this suddenly and much expanded universe was to conceive of it as a means through which she would better serve Mayuri's demands. An option on her list of programs. She bowed her head and said "Yes, Mayuri-sama," and he grunted in vague approval, writing down final thoughts in his copious notes on the matter before having them filed and stored away by his subordinates for future reference. Finally, she had come to adulthood.

He supposed that this one would do just fine for the time being, but all the same, he wanted to keep the appropriate records regarding the experiment should the need to terminate her arise.

There were of course, things fundamentally wrong with this model as there had been with all the others, but the odds of perfection had been computed and declared daunting. As a pragmatic man Mayuri deigned that the girl he had created five days ago would work well enough for the time being.

If she was found to be greatly lacking after these five days he knew he could always make new Nemus at any time, and while there _was _something about this prototype in particular that vaguely irritated him, it was more a feeling than a fact and really, he rather preferred not to have to go through the trouble of raising new ones time and time again if he could avoid it.

As such, he marked her status as "temporarily operational" and left it at that.

**END**


	440. Just Today

**440.**

**Title:** Just Today  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 481  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine, just randomness.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi can't remember her first words.  
**Dedication:** My Dad! Happy Father's Day.  
**A/N: **Taken from a statement my dad used to say all the time. See? I do listen to my parents every now and again.

* * *

"That's easy. First word was "aaauuh!" wasn't it?" 

Yumichika sighs at Ikkaku's declaration. "That's not a word."

The bald death god wrinkles his nose. "The hell it isn't. Hear it all the time when we're beatin' shit up."

Kenpachi grunts and sips at his beer. "'s more like…. "aaaaaugh" I think," he says, absently.

Yumichika rolls his eyes and looks at the dozing Yachiru sitting on Kenpachi's lap, one of Zaraki's arms keeping her from falling even though two tiny fists are already closed securely around the material of his captain's coat as she sleeps. "Whether it's "aaaauh" or "aaaaaugh" doesn't matter- they're both wrong."

"Che, whatever," Ikkaku mutters, waving dismissively at the pretty shinigami with as much coordination as he can muster after some heavy drinking. "All I know 's that's the first thing I ever heard come outta her mouth."

"It's not a _word_."

"Close enough."

Yumichika supposes he should have expected that sort of keen observation and memory from Ikkaku, but he's a little bit disappointed that Kenpachi doesn't have any input to share with them today, given that it's a rather special day. "Taichou?"

"Mmm," he grunts, and continues sipping his beer. "Don't remember either," he admits on Yumi's look. "Talks so damn much all the words run together, you ask me."

"How touching," Yumi drawls, dryly. "Am I the only one who remembers?"

"Probably," Zaraki responds, saying it in such a way that lets Yumichika know that he doesn't particularly care as he looks into the bottom of his now-empty cup. "Go'n get me another beer."

Yumichika huffs when his attempt to reminisce goes awry, but heads to the bar anyway, leaving Ikkaku drunk and staring at the ceiling while Kenpachi holds on to Yachiru and tries to grab a handful of peanuts from the dish on the table without waking her.

He doesn't see what the big deal is, exactly— been a long time and he can't be expected to remember what she said last week let alone what she said for the first time in her whole damned life.

Whether it was "kick" or "punch" or "strong" or "kill" or "fight" or _whatever_… in the end, words are just words. All he needs to remember is that he taught her how to _do_ those things and that she'll always remember how.

That's all that really matters. The fact that today is Father's Day or whatever? Well. Just another cluster of pointless words to him. Don't really mean a thing to him when he hears it.

He looks down at the sleeping bundle in his lap then, feels his eye twitch a bit on reflex when he notices the considerable puddle of drool starting to form on the front of his captain's coat.

Che.

Father's Day. Damn stupid idea if you ask him.

Why only one?

He's got to deal with this shit _every_ day.

**END**


	441. Talk to the Sword

**441.**

**Title:** Talk to the Sword  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Hozukimaru  
**Word Count:** 100 (holy hell a real, honest-to-god drabble!)  
**Warning/s: **Vague allusions to ch 229  
**Summary:** Ikkaku in a moment of meditation.  
**Dedication:** swinku- I'm sorry to put you through hell. XD;;  
**A/N: **Ehehe no comment, really. o.o

* * *

"So…" Hozukimaru starts, slowly, watching Ikkaku in a carefully measured, vaguely incredulous way. 

"So…" Ikkaku echoes, and feels like a dipshit.

Silence.

Ikkaku twitches.

Hozukimaru blinks.

"You wantedto talk?" Hozukimaru prompts. Can't quite believe its own ears when it hears the words spoken aloud. "You _wanted_ to talk?"

Madarame shrugs, eyes averted. "Yeah…I guess…"

Pause.

"Are you sick?" Hozukimaru asks, wary.

The bald shinigami scowls. "Tch. Shut the fuck up, smartass. Maybe I just wanted to talk to ya, goddamned bastard. Ever think of that?"

A reluctant, "I see."

Another moment of awkward silence.

And then, "Are you dying?"

**END**


	442. Incredible Inedible

**442.**

**Title:** Incredible Inedible  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yumichika, Ikkaku, Renji, Matsumoto  
**Word Count:** 575  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the early part of the Arrankar arc.  
**Summary:** The shinigami encounter a strange human world phenomenon- the mall food court.  
**Dedication:** JaB- I thought a lot about the facial expressions you draw on Ikkaku and Renji when I was writing this.  
**A/N: **Pointlessness to see if I can still write. O.o Also, to poke fun at the fact that some variations of "Chinese food" (in the loosest sense of the word) should be considered toxic. At least, in my opinion. XD Because I am one of those types of people who is vaguely insulted (and disgusted) at the idea of Sweet-and-Sour anything.

* * *

"The hell is that?" 

Yumichika looks thoughtful. "Orange chicken."

Renji blinks. "Orange chicken?"

"Mmm," Yumichika responds, still regarding the food he'd brought curiously. "I heard the name and I just had to see what an orange chicken would look like!"

"Looks like a great steamin' pile o sh-…"

Ikkaku is cut off by a deft swipe to the back of his head by his prettier division mate. "People are going to be _eating_ that thank you, Ikkaku."

The bald shinigami growls and rubs at the back of his head. "Well _I_ ain't gonna…"

"Orange chicken," Renji repeats, furrowing his brow and picking up a chopstick with which to poke at the gloppy mess of fowl flesh on the table between them. The chopstick makes a wet sucking noise when he pulls it away from the inch-thick sauce and he shudders. "Chicken ain't supposed to be that color," he declares after a moment, with infinite surety.

"No shit," Ikkaku chimes in, helpfully. "Look like it'd kill a man, you ask me."

The three of them stare at it thoughtfully for another moment.

"I'm sure it's edible," Yumichika states after a minute or two. "Go on, Ikkaku."

"Like hell! You bought it, _you_ eat it."

Yumichika looks just as happy with that idea as Ikkaku had about the whole concept of orange chicken in the first place. "Well if I won't, and you won't and…" he pauses to lift an inquisitive eyebrow at Renji, who quickly shakes his head, "…and Renji won't, then who will?"

"Ara, I'm sooooo tired! This shopping thing is an even better workout than training with taichou!" a voice declares loudly, Matsumoto Rangiku sweeping into the mall's food court a moment later with countless bags around either of her arms and a rather manically satisfied look on her face. "Oooh, food!"

She sheds her bags, dropping them beside the table before flopping down into the last remaining chair with a heave of her considerable bosom. "What is it?"

"Try some," Yumichika invites.

"Waaah, don't mind if I do!"

And she does.

The three men watch the blonde vice-captain pack away the unsightly concoction without so much as a twitch on her pretty face.

"Oi, that mean it's safe?" Ikkaku whispers to the other two, still sounding infinitely uncertain about the concept as a whole.

"Hmmm," Yumichika responds, noncommittal as he watches piece by piece disappear at record speed while Rangiku chatters on about something indecipherable (Dulce and Gabanna? What the hell is that?).

"Um," is all Renji has to say on the matter.

"Maybe Rangiku-san wasn't the best subject to perform an initial test on," Yumichika offers after a moment, wincing a bit as the tenth division shinigami leans back upon finishing, rubbing her stomach and belching impressively.

"Oh, excuse me. Hehe, guess I was hungrier than I thought!" she exclaims with a laugh and a hearty slap to Renji's shoulder.

Ikkaku and Renji look at each other at that and find that they agree with Yumichika's assessment- they should've started on someone _normal_.

"Mmmm, let's go buy a takeout box for Hitsugaya-taichou then, shall we?" the pretty fifth-seat suggests with a practiced smile. "I'm sure it would be very rude to exclude him."

Ikkaku clears his throat. "Er, good idea, Yumi. Here, lemme help ya with that."

Renji stands up too. "Yeah! I'll uh, I'll help you both."

Back at the table, Matsumoto burps again.

The men hurry towards the Panda Express.

**END**


	443. Paralysis

**443.**

**Title:** Paralysis  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, Yachiru  
**Word Count:** 285  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei wants to know why.  
**Dedication:** electrify and chibify for feeding my Shuumi fangirl heart in a time of great darkness. Also for Kia, for the encouragement.  
**A/N: **Ahaha the dialogue I've been writing has been infinitely weird lately. I don't know why.

* * *

Shuuhei, covered in bright red paint in the shape of child-sized handprints, stands in the doorway and glares at Yumichika. "Why?" he asks, sounding winded. "Why do you give her candy? Why would you _do_ something like that?" 

Yumichika blinks at him, because the answer really ought to be obvious. "Because she likes it!"

"Oh," Shuuhei says, because he doesn't really know how else to respond to that unapologetic declaration. "Oh."

Yumichika smiles. "Aren't you two having fun drawing together?"

"I can't feel my legs," Shuuhei announces, and leans against the doorframe.

"You _must_ be having fun then," Yumi chirrups as he finishes putting the final touches on the snack tray he's been preparing. "Fukutaichou's favorite cookies."

Hisagi's blood runs cold. "Why?" he echoes, faintly. "Why do you do this to me?"

Yumi's eyes sparkle mirth at that helpless inquiry and he steps forward; reaching up to touch Shuuhei's cheek (the one without any paint on it) tenderly. "You'll make a fabulous father one day," he declares with the utmost certainty. "I love you very much." Then he pecks Hisagi on the cheek with infinite gentleness and turns back to his tray, picking it up and sliding past his lover into the adjoining room.

"Yachiru, cookies!"

"Waaaah, yay! Come paint with me, Yumi-pon!"

In the doorway, Shuuhei raises a hand to touch the spot on his face that Yumichika kissed, unwittingly drawing a line of red paint across it as he does. He thinks about fatherhood and cookies and candies and the sugar-glazed madness that takes a child over after ingesting all those things.

He wants to say, "Thank you, I love you too."

But all that comes out is: "I can't feel my legs."

**END**


	444. Peace Between Nations

**444.**

**Title:** Peace Between Nations  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou  
**Word Count:** 999  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, but some OOC I guess. XD  
**Summary:** A study in diplomacy between warring nations  
**Dedication:** sherrymarie- C'MON YOU KNOW YOU WANNA PLAY.  
**A/N:** Right.Four hundred-and-forty-four, for the record. BUT it's not like I need an excuse, right? Right. XD

* * *

For all the time eleventh division shinigami seem to spend in the fourth division headquarters, one would think the two divisions would be better friends. 

Ganjyu sighs as he comes to check on some of his men who'd gotten into a nasty fight (with each other) earlier, something over one _maybe _having slept with the other's sister. Ugly business.

He smiles and greets the fourth divisioners he sees as he passes, though most of them still eye him suspiciously when he does and he supposes it's not like they don't have a good reason to do as such, given their track record with members of the eleventh.

Still, you'd think that with the whole thing involving he and Hanatarou they'd at least try to be a bit friendlier with him.

But now's not the time, and when he finds the room he'd been directed to when he'd inquired at the front desk he steps inside without knocking, just in time to duck a flying container of tongue swabs as it crashes and shatters by the doorway by his head.

"Aaah! P-please don't throw things!"

Hanatarou sounding distressed is always the first thing to set the new eleventh division shinigami off, and before he knows what he's doing he's got either fist in either of his men's faces.

"The hell is going on here?" he demands.

"G-ganjyu-san, don't hit them, they're injured!" Hanatarou chastises, though he looks vaguely grateful for the chaos to have been partially subdued by the larger man's entrance.

"Sir!" the two eleventh division thugs shout, and wipe the blood from their noses.

Ganjyu cuffs them both upside the head. "You better go'n clean that up, ya no good, trouble-makin' bastards."

"I-it's okay, Ganjyu-san!" Hanatarou assures him, and goes back to examining his patients before another brawl can start. "I'm almost done with um, Hamada-san, and Shibata-san doesn't seem to be very injured…." Pause. "Though I guess now I should check your noses."

Ganjyu sighs, but refrains from smacking them again for fear of making Hanatarou more work. "Che. Someone else's damn _house_," he mutters, just because he feels like he ought to. "Show some respect."

"Don't respect no fourth division," Shibata mutters defiantly. "Don't got any fer people who can't fight."

Ganjyu can't help himself when he cuffs the idiot again. "You can't fight a lick yerself if you're lettin' a weakling like Hamada beat ya up," he tells him matter-of-factly. "Be grateful they're still willin' ta look after your sorry asses after such an' amazin' spectacle of stupidity."

Both of them glower but know better than to challenge Shiba-san after he'd battled his way to a seated position after just a week in the eleventh, causing an impressive amount of damage during Zaraki's last standings brawl.

"Sides," Ganjyu continues, feeling like he needs to pound the fact in, "This is their damned _house, _fucker. Would you tolerate some random asshole comin' into Zaraki-taichou's headquarters 'n demandin' attention an' time, eatin' the food, usin' our shit, and generally disrespectin' on everybody while they was?"

The two look vaguely cowed at the thought. "No, sir."

Hanatarou pauses momentarily in his work to beam at Ganjyu. "That's nice."

Ganjyu, like he's got a switch on him somewhere, goes from scowling to beaming back at the small healer. "What, really?"

Hana blushes a bit and nods before going back to work.

Ganjyu grins, goofily.

Hamada and Shibata roll their eyes.

Ganjyu catches it and goes right back to glaring. "You payin' attention to me, assholes?"

"Er, yessir!"

"Anyway, don't have the right to make you two idiots change your world views or nothin', but I just want ya to know. I'm still the boss of ya both and while yer under this roof you're gonna at least _act_ like respectable idiots if ya can't get past the whole bein' idiots part." He pauses when a sudden burst of inspiration hits him. "In fact, on your way outta here I want ya to thank all the fourth division people ya see. Best kinda penance for bein' rude."

The two look stricken. "But!"

Ganjyu crosses his arms and menaces at them both. "Oi. Who here's the boss, huh?"

They sigh. "You are."

Neither of them is in the standing to challenge him for his seat, after all.

"That's right. I'm the damned boss right now. So ya both're gonna do it, hear me?"

"Yessir."

Hanatarou, absently working to heal the cut on Hamada's lip, turns to Ganjyu then, suddenly remembering something. "Ne, Ganjyu-san, can you run to the store later?"

"Whuzzat now, Hana?"

The fourth division shinigami looks thoughtful. "We're out of soba at home, and I was thinking that we could have that for dinner since it's so hot!"

Ganjyu grins. "Sounds good!"

Hanatarou smiles back. "So could you go pick some up on your way home? You get back earlier than I do."

"Sure, sure!" Ganjyu agrees, readily. "It's not a problem. Anythin' else you want while I'm there?"

"Mmmm…"

"Hehe, I'll get soma those chocolates ya like, howzat?"

Hana laughs a bit, and Ganjyu practically glows at it.

"Okay!"

Hamada and Shibata look at each other.

Hmmm.

"Yamada-san!" Shibata exclaims, suddenly. "We're very sorry for causing you so much trouble!"

"We'll clean up the mess!" Hamada quickly agrees, and the two bow in apology.

Hanatarou blinks at them. "Um… it's…it's no problem!"

The eleventh divisioners grin and look back up at Yamada in an overly-friendly manner.

"From now on, let's get along!"

"Yeah, let's be friends!"

It should be heartwarming sight or something, this whole foundation for future peace between nations that Ganjyu's witnessing, but as he looks at it, he can't quite figure out why he feels just the slightest bit uneasy about the whole thing.

As far as Hamada and Shibata are concerned, making friends with Yamada Hanatarou suddenly seems like a pretty good idea, even if he is a wimpy fourth division runt.

Can't be too bad being in with the boss's boss, after all.

**END**


	445. Mistress of the House

**445.**

**Title:** Mistress of the House  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Rukia, lightly Byakuya+Ichigo  
**Word Count:** 768  
**Warning/s: **Um, light spoilers for Byakuya back story.  
**Summary:** Ichigo stays at the Kuchiki Manor.   
**Dedication:** ignipotent- thanks again for the donations!  
**A/N: **Rounding out the last Bleach request I owe from my list with this one. The request was: "ByakuyaxIchigo- Marriage". VERY CRACKY.

* * *

"Hey," Ichigo starts, staring at the portrait of a woman that looks a lot like Rukia except _tame_. "That the good twin or something?" 

She scowls at him, kicks him in the shin. "Niisama's wife, Hisana-sama. My sister," she tells him matter-of-factly. "Show some respect."

He rubs at his leg absently. "Ow. Sorry. Just…" he eyes Byakuya then, who's leading them through the Kuchiki household with all the enthusiasm of a casket bearer. "I guess I just can't imagine _him_ ever being married."

"Echoes, Kurosaki-kun," Byakuya's voice starts from up ahead, sounding vaguely amused. "The halls echo quite nicely."

Ichigo blushes. "Er! I mean… well." He sighs. "Right, sorry."

"Hmm," Byakuya responds, but doesn't change his pace a bit. "This is the dojo—attached to the house and free for your use should you wish it. Please clean up after yourself."

They pass the immaculate training facility—Ichigo sneaks a look inside as they pass and whistles—before continuing on towards the living quarters.

"My quarters," Byakuya recites, gesturing with one hand to a surprisingly simple set of sliding doors. "Rukia's quarters," he continues, pointing to the room on other side of the hallway.

"Your quarters are here," he states then, stopping in front of the set of rooms located directly beside his own. "Guest rooms. For the time that you're here, the staff has been instructed to treat you as a member of the household."

Rukia, right behind Ichigo, whispers, "Hisana-sama's old rooms," into his ear to clarify. Byakuya hears her anyway.

"Yes. Well, no one was using them. It's rude to whisper, Rukia."

"Sorry, niisama."

Ichigo blinks and wonders if he should decline the honor, mostly because.

Well.

Those are the _mistress of the house's_ rooms and…

… well, what does that say about _him_, exactly? Right?

Right.

"Hey, it's real nice of you guys to be putting me up while I'm here for the summer but you don't gotta go all the way and…"

Rukia elbows him in the stomach.

"Thanks, niisama. I'll help him get settled."

Byakuya nods. "Very well. Dinner in two hours."

"Right!" she says, and waits for him to turn and leave before grabbing Ichigo's arm and pulling him into his special quarters.

"The hell is wrong with you, woman!" he demands as she slides the door closed behind them, clutching his middle and glowering at her.

Despite the glaring, she seems as full of…evil and conniving as ever. "I think niisama likes you!" she declares, putting her hands on her hips and looking superior to everyone else in the universe.

"What? Why?" Ichigo chokes, and momentarily forgets about tossing her through the nearest window in retaliation for the blow to his stomach.

She grins. "Because you're _here_ and not in the guest house."

"There's a _guest house_!"

She nods, like it's a normal thing. "He definitely likes you! He put you right next door to him!"

"Well maybe he's just loosening up?" Ichigo offers, not liking that glow in her eyes and what she _might (_she better _not_ be) insinuating there.

She looks at him, thoughtful. "Yes, well, he would have to if he wanted to catch you, I suppose."

He slaps a hand to his face. "The hell are you on? He was _married_. There's no way…"

"Was!" she says, pointing at him in an "A-ha!" sort of matter with her index finger. "And this was where he first brought his bride when she came into his home!" she spins, and it might be with something like unholy glee. It's definitely an unholy _something._

Ichigo thinks he really is going to throw her out the window, bad guest behavior or no. He clenches his teeth. "Rukia…"

She stops, pats his arm. "And did you notice? Did you?"

"Notice _what_?" he demands, feeling completely baffled as to where any of this is even _coming_ from now. "What? What is _wrong_ with you?"

She snickers. "His _hair_."

He blinks. "Are you on drugs?"

She smacks him again. "His hair!" she repeats. "It was parted differently. Surely you must have noticed."

"No…no, can't say that I did."

She pokes at him, excitedly. "He hasn't changed how he styles his hair for a _century_."

Ichigo feels his eye twitch. "Are you suggesting…"

She leans back then, and that dominatrix look is back in her eye, the one where she sees right through him to some bizarre alternate universe that could only occur in her twisted little head.

"It's like you're niisama's new bride!"

Pause.

"What?"

"You heard me!"

He promptly throws her out the window.

And wishes they weren't on the ground floor.

**END**


	446. Lovey Dovey

**446.**

**Title:** Lovey-Dovey  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, IkkakuxKira  
**Word Count: **863   
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine—just silliness and OOC. XD  
**Summary:** Yumichika and Kira share deep, dark, embarrassing secrets.  
**Dedication:** JaB- I always think of the expressions on your part of the doujinshi when I think of blatant thug idiocy now. Thanks.  
**A/N: **I dunno. I just wanted to be disgusting, I think. XD

* * *

"Kirarin," Kira murmurs reluctantly, and then blushes bright red into the rim of his teacup. 

Yumichika looks sympathetic. "_Yu_," he offers, wrinkling his nose, shuddering at the mere sound of the word.

Kira looks at the pretty shinigami with wide eyes. "Wah, really? Senpai… he…"

Yumichika nods. "Unfortunately."

"I dunno…that's kinda… cute." Kira offers a small smile. Then, "Sometimes…Izurin."

Yumi rolls his eyes. "Terribly creative of him, there. Not wholly unexpected, though."

The blond chuckles warmly. "Yeah."

Yumi pauses then, swirls his tea around a bit in the cup. Takes a deep breath. "Yumicchi," he confesses.

Blue eyes widen even more. "Really? He…_really_?"

"Mmm," Yumi confirms, and gulps down tea like he wants to clean his palate of the name with it. "On the _worst_ days…Yumichu? Ugh."

Kira chuckles. "I don't…I don't really believe… I mean." He looks down, shyly. "Senpai really calls you that?"

The eleventh division shinigami sighs, but offers Kira a small smile. "What, you want proof?"

Izuru looks absolutely incredulous at that. "You mean he'd…"

"Not _sober_," Yumi clarifies.

"You mean…"

Yumichika nods, glad to finally have a comrade in this mutual sort of pain. He sets his teacup back on the table. "Well. They're having game night with Renji and Tetsu tonight…" Yumichika looks at the time piece on his wall. "We'll give them another two hours or so—they should be right sloshed then."

Kira, cheeks a bit pink at the thought, nods. "Okay."

Two hours later, as promised, the two of them move to crash the little drinking/card party, slipping inside Renji's quarters in lieu of knocking given that at this point the four poker players are probably far too gone to properly get up and invite visitors in.

From Renji's living room they hear raucous laughter and something like a "Fuck you!" as cards are being thrown on the table.

Kira looks vaguely guilty at invading. "Are you sure we…"

Yumi pats his arm reassuringly and rounds the corner with something like dramatic flourish. "Shuuhei!"

The room goes quiet for a second, and Yumichika sniffs at the beer cans scattered about, the smell of cheap booze, tobacco, and something musty—Renji does live here after all—hanging in the air.

And then, "Yumicchi!" Shuu declares, smiling drunkenly in greeting when he recognizes his lover. "Was just thinkin' 'bout you."

"Fuck you better not have a boner under my card table then, ya suck fuck," Renji slurs, and beans a pretzel at Hisagi's head. It goes wide. "Last thing I need is images of the two've you goin' at it."

Shuuhei scowls at his host and beans the very same pretzel back at him, though misses by a larger margin than the redhead had. "Don't picture 'im naked. He's mine."

Ikkaku flicks pretzels at them both. "Deal already, for fuck's sake!" he demands drunkenly, belching at the end of the order for emphasis.

Kira clears his throat then, steps out into the light behind Yumichika. "Er…Ikkaku?"

The bald death god promptly forgets being dealt to. "Kirara?"

Yumi gives the blond a surprised look at that. "_Kirara_?" he mouths.

Izuru, mortified, shakes his head. "I think that one was an accident?" he offers in a whisper before turning back to his lover with a slightly strained smile. "Um… hi."

Ikkaku grins. "Whatcha doin' here, baby?"

Kira looks vaguely panicked at the question. "Um…"

"We were terribly lonely," Yumichika picks up smoothly, "and came to see our…" _Great, unwashed masses_… "…dearest loves."

Tetsu and Renji make faces.

Shuuhei and Ikkaku grin.

"Best seat in the house all ready to go then, cutie," Ikkaku declares goofily, patting his thigh.

"Wouldn't wantcha missin' us, after all," Shuuhei adds, and leans back in invitation should Yumichika like to perch himself in his lap as well.

The two newcomers look at each other skeptically.

"No, no that's alright," Yumichika starts, with surprising aplomb given how ridiculous the two drunkards look right now, "we've seen you now, and that's all we needed. Carry on, boys."

"Yeah… I'll uhm, I won't wait up for you, Ikkaku," Izuru agrees readily, already backing up towards the door as he does.

Yumichika moves to follow, but pauses momentarily in the doorway as inspiration strikes him. He smirks. "I'll see you later… _ShuuShuu_."

Shuuhei blinks. "Whazat now?"

Kira eyes Yumichika questioningly, but the answering sparkle of encouragement he gets from the shorter man in response tells him everything he needs to know. "Right…um… night… Ikka….chu?"

Yumichika almost, _almost_ snorts aloud at that.

Ikkaku's turn to blink then. "Huh?"

The two smaller men compose themselves and stroll out the door without another word.

Behind them, the raucous laughter resumes, even more raucously than before.

"Oh man! Ahahahahaha! _ShuuShuu_! That's too good. That's better than good. That's fuckin' _amazing_."

"Pfffffft ain't half as good as Ikkachu! That's pretty fuckin' cute there, Madarame. I think I'm gonna die. Oh god…ahahahaha, it hurts to breathe…"

Outside, Yumichika and Kira share a look and quiet laughter, the two of them thinking that maybe their own nicknames aren't the worst ones they've heard tonight in the least.

They head back to Yumichika's quarters then, infinitely smug.

Renji and Iba's breathless laughter follows them out.

**END**


	447. Little Reminders

**447.**

**Title:** Little Reminders  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira, vague hints of GinxKira  
**Word Count:** 953  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society Arc  
**Summary:** Ikkaku's lessons are written on his skin.  
**Dedication:** swinku- I know I scarred you during this doujin thing. XD  
**A/N: **Ehehe sappier than I had planned. shrugs I dunno.

* * *

"You have so many," Kira murmurs, both in awe and concern. 

"They're souvenirs, I guess," Ikkaku grunts, and squirms a bit when Kira traces the tip of his finger over the edge of an oddly shaped scar on the other man's back.

"Souvenirs?"

"Remind me not to do stupid shit again," Ikkaku clarifies, and curses under his breath when Kira leans down to let his tongue finish what his finger had started. "That one you're… nnngh…. That one's supposed to remind me not to turn my back on an angry chick who was convinced I didn't do right by her," he explains with a little snort.

"Hmmm," Kira murmurs, and presses his lips to the scar tissue. "What about this one?"

"Nnn… from Zaraki-taichou. Reminds me I can't beat nobody up after I'm dead."

The blond chuckles a bit at that. "Good lesson."

He runs his thumb over a longer cut then, that's paper thin and starts on his lover's right shoulder blade, extending all the way around his side. "This one is different," he muses aloud.

And it is. Looks much more delicate than most of the others, much more precise.

Ikkaku snorts at it. "Figures—bastard always took to bein' different."

The way he talks about it, Izuru knows right away, where it's from. "Yumichika?"

"Learned not to underestimate me no pretty boys," Ikkaku says then, and shifts onto his side, propping his head up on his hand so he can regard the blond more carefully. "Why you so curious about these ugly old things anyway?"

Kira settles more comfortably next to him at that, looks at his front and all the other old wounds he can see there. "Your body is like a map of your history," he murmurs, absently, touching his lips to a jagged cut just under Madarame's collarbone. "Does it bother you sometimes? To always have to see it and relive it?"

Ikkaku shivers a bit, reaches out with one hand to stroke blond bangs out of Kira's eyes. "Dunno. Ain't much for dwellin'."

And that's the difference between them maybe—Ikkaku takes his scars as lessons but forgets how much they must have hurt, the price in blood he'd had to pay to come out with them as just souvenirs. To come out the survivor.

Maybe Kira's been picking at his own too long, wondering at their purpose now that the person who's sake he'd endured them for had left him behind. "Is it that simple?" he asks, and lets his hand drift to the front of his own chest for a moment.

"Yeah, I figure," Ikkaku grunts, still playing absently with the other man's hair. "What's there 's there. Ain't got time to worry 'bout 'em, long as they ain't hurtin'."

"Hmmm," Kira replies, and supposes that makes sense.

Ikkaku smiles at him, crookedly and full of an honest kind of simple charm. "What about you?"

The blond looks down at himself then, at the few, thin pink scars here and there, wounds in the service of Ichimaru Gin.

"They make me remember," he admits, and looks back up at Ikkaku.

The eleventh division shinigami shrugs. "They hurt?"

"Sometimes."

"Hmmm," Ikkaku says, and lets his hand drift downward slowly, to rest against the curve of the other man's pale neck, stroking that little turn where his throat meets his shoulder. "You learn something from 'em?"

Kira furrows his brow then, looks down again at the pale pink marks that dot his body.

The one he got on his first assignment after being accepted into the gotei-13.

The ugly scratches he got protecting Gin from the Hollow he thought his captain hadn't noticed.

The one from Gin himself, Shinsou's sharp bite against his arm and Gin's tongue lapping the blood up a moment later, a permanent sign. Gin's promise, "you'll always belong to me."

He tries to think about what they all mean, what he possibly could have learned from those very different things.

Ikkaku's hand continues stroking his shoulder, the pad of a rough thumb pressing into one of the scars near his collarbone.

Kira shivers and inches closer, rests his head in the crook of Ikkaku's throat.

If Ikkaku's scars are reminders then Kira's are affirmations—signs of love and loyalty and self-sacrifice.

They're a declaration, maybe. That he'll always protect those most important to him, no matter who it may be. At all costs, without second thought. It's simply how he is.

Perhaps Ichimaru Gin had been the wrong person to entrust himself so fully to, but looking back, Izuru supposes he at least knows now, that when he loves, he will fight as hard as he can for that other person's sake.

Ikkaku's calloused hand touches his face then, cupping his chin and tipping his head up so eyes can meet eyes. "Well?"

"I learned something," Kira murmurs then, and puts his both of his hands on top of Ikkaku's larger one.

A hint of a smile then, a simple grunt of acknowledgement from the other death god. "Well there ya go then," he says, and leaves it at that.

Izuru can't help but laugh at that, eyes crinkling just a bit as he gazes up at Madarame warmly. "I'll always protect you," he promises suddenly, and Ikkaku laughs a bit when he hears it, leaning forward to kiss Kira's forehead. "Right," he declares with an amused sort of fondness, pulling the blond more snuggly against him. "I'll hold you to that."

Kira sighs comfortably as he's embraced and closes his eyes. "I have something to remind me," he murmurs, breaths feather light against the ugly scar on his lover's shoulder.

Ikkaku chuckles sleepily. "Long as you learned something."

Kira smiles. "Yeah."

**END**


	448. Movin' On Up

**448.**

**Title:** Movin' on Up  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh Division  
**Word Count:** 999  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc and vague ones for the current Arrankar arc.  
**Summary:** Yumichika and Ikkaku get promoted. In a way.  
**Dedication:** Soph- ARGH OMG that Shuumi was just. GUH.  
**A/N: **I am a world of suuuck. More so than usual as of late. --;;

* * *

Mostly he was sick of the stupidity. People knockin' on his door, accusin' him of all sortsa stuff he didn't know nothin' about. 

"During this time of crisis the gotei-13 requires exactly that! Thirteen captains!"

"Zaraki, release whatever blood oath you've forced your men to take…"

"Order them to the positions if you must!"

Kenpachi sighed.

Sick of it all, really.

Wondered why everyone seemed even stupider'n Yachiru lately, and she was the one who'd gone'n gotten herself concussed for rushin' through seireitei'n running right into Oomaeda while she was roundin' a corner at top speed yester day.

He called Yumichika into his office first.

"Yes, taichou?"

"The hell is wrong with you?"

"Absolutely nothing, of course! In fact, I feel quite wonderful, thank you for asking."

He grunted and poured himself some alcohol. Figured he'd need it. "They want ya to become a captain, yeah?"

Yumichika smiled. "Yes!"

"Weren't you always tellin' me you wanted to be one so, what… you could have the fancy coat?"

The fifth seat, inordinately pleased with this undeniable proof that Zaraki had actually _listened_ to him, positively beamed. "Yes! With my own stylish alterations of course. Sleeveless, but streamlined. Cut to flatter my waistline."

Zaraki twitched. "Right. So. How come ya ain't gone yet? They been houndin' ya somethin' fierce and I'm fuckin' sick and tired of havin' 'em come see me 'cuz you're playin' diva. You want the job or not?"

Yumichika twittered. "Of course I want it! Silly."

Zaraki twitched again. "So the hell haven't you taken it?"

Ayasegawa, looking decidedly mischievous, waved absently. "I'm waiting for Shuuhei!"

Kenpachi blinked. "Buh?"

Eyes twinkling, Yumichika moved to explain. "Well you see, I'm waiting for him to swallow his pride and _ask_ me. I absolutely won't consider it until he does. Poor dear, I think the whole idea bothers him somehow."

The look on the pretty shinigami's face told Kenpachi that no, Yumi didn't really mean that "poor dear" part so much as "ha ha ha I'm so much better than you."

Cute.

In a disgusting, wanted-to-make-him-vomit sorta way.

Zaraki sighed. "Right. Go'n get Ikkaku, will ya?"

"Hai!"

Kenpachi, watching Ayasegawa saunter out, hoped for—though wouldn't count on—Ikkaku being slightly less stupid.

"What's up, taichou?"

Kenpachi grunted and got up to get himself another bottle of sake upon seeing the etching that read "_I love poop_" across Madarame's forehead.

So much for that.

"The hell happened to you?"

"Er… well, I was lookin' in on fukutaichou on account of yesterday and… damned brat still moves pretty fast for someone who got her head banged up."

Kenpachi made a mental note to strap her to the bed.

Or tie her up'n hang her by the ceiling— fool needed to rest her fool self up properly.

"You uh, you wanted to see me, taichou?"

The eleventh division captain eyed his subordinate. "You really strong enough to be a captain?" he asked, disbelieving.

Ikkaku squirmed under the scrutiny. "Er, 's what they're tellin' me, I guess. Ain't really been listenin'."

Kenpachi grunted. "Good."

Ikkaku beamed. "That mean you don't want me leavin' taichou? I never thought…"

"Ain't got it in ya."

Ikkaku stopped. "Taichou?"

"Ain't got it in ya," Zaraki reiterated, plain as day. "Same punk-ass bastard I beat up years ago. Only difference is now ya got "I love poop" written on yer face."

Madarame scowled. "Oi…like I was sayin'…"

Zaraki waved at him. "Maybe I'll tell 'em to give Yachiru the position. Seems she can still get the drop on you half-addled anyway."

Ikkaku's turn to twitch then and Zaraki couldn't help but feel better 'bout the fact that he wasn't the only one doing it today.

"Yachiru? She wouldn't wanna leave ya, sir."

"Pffft. 'S just a coat and nicer pay. She'd still be here writin' 'bout poo on idiots' faces everyday, whether she was vice-captain of the eleventh or captain of the third, I figure."

Ikkaku looked away. "Huh."

Obviously wasn't gettin' it.

Kenpachi sighed; decided that he couldn't really be subtler'n that. So he pointed at the third seat then, and menaced. "I'm so sick of yer goddamned face."

"Buh?"

Ikkaku obviously wasn't followin'.

Kenpachi wanted to throw something at the gaping fool's head, but figured it wouldn't do any good to have two seated officers concussed. He sighed instead, and it was long-suffering, frighteningly like the one Yam-jii used every now'n again. "I want you outta here by sundown, got me?"

Ikkaku looked downright heartbroken at the order. "T-taichou?"

"You heard me," Zaraki said, tiredly. "Yer goin' to the third and yer gonna be their goddamned captain."

"But, taichou, I don't wanna…"

"Don't wanna? Fuckin' sound like yer five goddamn years old. What's there to be afeared of over there? That sad-lookin' vice-captain with the wobbly eyes? Fuckin' kiddin' me."

"Ain't afeared!" Ikkaku snarled reflexively. "I just told myself I wasn't gonna follow anybody but you!"

Zaraki snorted, because that was kinda gay. But even when he thought about it in a not-gay-way, it was still retarded. "Tch. That ain't somethin' that's gonna change just 'cuz you got a new coat and some dumb promotion, fucktard. I can still kick your ass half asleep whether yer here or a coupla doors down. I'll always be your goddamned boss."

Ikkaku looked at him for a while after he said that, like that slower brain of his was busy trying to process it all right. Then, finally, "Yeah?"

"Che. Sure as it says "_I love poop_" on yer head, dumbass. Now get the hell outta here."

The bald shinigami smiled, lopsidedly. "So…"

"Go. And know that I don't ever wanna see your ugly face ever again, you don't at least make those third division pansies cry the first day yer there."

Ikkaku outright grinned at that. "Yessir!"

Zaraki watched him go, and after a moment, found himself chuckling unexpectedly, 'cuz now that he'd thought about it for a bit, the whole "_I love poop_" thing was pretty damn funny.

**END**


	449. A Clean Slate

**449.**

**Title:** A Clean Slate  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Komamura, Iba, Kenpachi  
**Word Count:** 997  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc.  
**Summary:** Komamura wants to reform his vice-captain.  
**Dedication:** Um, everyone who hounds me for not writing my Gan app like I should have. --;;  
**A/N: **Oddly enough, I feel kind of really gen-ish lately. I am obviously ill.

* * *

He remembers when he first took Tetsuzaemon under his wing, looking down at the young man like a father does an unruly child, ready to fully bear the responsibility of fixing the boy's coarser habits, of reforming him from his wild, uncivil ways. 

Komamura remembers thinking, "_this one can still be saved. Zaraki only had him for so long_."

It was his duty after all, to teach his new vice-captain the proper ways to behave, indeed, how to become honorable.

Iba had looked back up at him with something like trepidation maybe, though he hid it under furrowed brow and dark glasses.

"_I will reform him_," Komamura had thought to himself. "_It's my duty_."

And so he'd begun, from under that heavy mask—a case perhaps, of him leading from the dark.

When Iba laughed, Komamura deemed it most times inappropriate, all times a rude noise.

"Curb your enthusiasm, please, Tetsuzaemon."

"Er, yessir."

When Iba fought he smiled, and Komamura felt the need to rectify that, because there should be no joy in bloodshed.

"Death isn't something to revel in, Tetsuzaemon. Nor carnage. We fight and we sully ourselves. We dirty our hands for a greater purpose, so that those more deserving don't have to. We are sacrifices made in the hopes of making a better world."

"Er… yessir."

When Iba spoke he slurred, and when he drank he slurred _and_ fought, and when he fought, he still smiled and didn't know he was doing it.

"You indulge yourself in too many vices, Tetsuzaemon. Our bodies are the means through which we work towards bettering this place—the only vehicles through which killers such as ourselves have to serve a greater purpose. If we give in to these hedonistic impulses all the time, we truly are worthless then, aren't we? Imperfect offerings."

"Er…yessir."

And he can tell that Iba tries, that his vice-captain wants to abide by his taichou's lessons as best he can because he respects Komamura, because Komamura is sure that there's a part of Tetsuzaemon that wants to believe in something greater than the battle-lust Zaraki Kenpachi ruined him with.

So Komamura is patient if stern, and for many years he works to clean Iba's mind of the less savory things he learned from the eleventh division.

And though Tetsuzaemon continues to interact with the eleventh division members, he also speaks to Hisagi-san more, and Komamura thinks that's an improvement, that if Iba washes his hands of unsavory company it will be easier to break with the philosophies imparted upon him in the past.

Hisagi Shuuhei is a good man.

So Komamura waits, and thinks that with time, this responsibility of his, this vice-captain, will truly be a man seireitei can be proud of, as Kaname has shaped Hisagi-san into with much patience and vigilance.

But then Tousen leaves.

A traitor.

And Komamura finds that more than just his helmet shattered under Zaraki Kenpachi's sword that day.

"So now you ain't got nothin' to hide behind," Kenpachi had grunted, and was grinning but not smiling when he had, despite the fact that the eleventh division had lost two-thirds of its ranks.

Tetsuzaemon puts his hand on his captain's shoulder sometime later, and offers him a drink. "Sir," he says, slowly, "I don't think I wanna be a sacrifice anymore."

"Hm," Komamura responds, and for the first time ever, allows himself to share a drink with Iba.

"Then what are we?" he finds himself asking later, when they've exhausted the supply of sake between them.

"Just us, I guess," Tetsuzaemon grunts inarticulately, staring up at the stars from where he's splayed out—drunk-- on his back.

"What does that mean?" Komamura asks, feeling vaguely dizzy himself.

"Dunno. I kinda like fightin' though. And drinkin'. And playin' cards with the boys, and chasin' skirts, and talkin' shit. Guess that's what I am."

"Hn," Komamura echoes, and says nothing else. Tetsuzaemon is very drunk, and the large fox-captain wonders if this thing called "fun" his subordinate always seems intent on having will be an adequate replacement for his "sacrifice", if it's some untapped treasure he's never let himself know because there were always other things that seemed more important.

The next morning he lets Iba sleep in—he'll probably be hung-over anyway—and with a slight headache, Komamura Sajin treks to the eleventh division headquarters.

When he gets there he's greeted by the sounds of raucous cheers and energetic shouts, the tall captain discovering that there is a standings brawl today, to replace seats lost in the earlier week.

No time to mourn-- or perhaps no will to. Maybe their comrades wouldn't have wanted to be mourned.

He watches for a while, as violence and chaos erupts around him, eleventh division shinigami smiling as they battle, slurring as they talk, drinking as they wait.

Eventually Komamura catches Zaraki Kenpachi's single eye, and they stare at each other for a long, wordless moment from across the grounds.

And then, "The hell do you want?"

Around them, the fighting rages on, and something in the atmosphere stirs in Komamura himself when he feels it—like the alcohol he'd had too much of last night. "Show me," he says, and says nothing else.

Kenpachi bursts out laughing. "Show you, huh?"

Komamura doesn't feel the need to repeat himself, and doesn't.

Moments later, Zaraki Kenpachi stands, looking amused.

"Che. Show you. You got a lot to learn."

Komamura thinks about the snoring vice-captain he left on his office floor this morning, the one who smiles when he fights and drinks like a fish and curses like a sailor and in the end, would never betray a friend.

"Then let's begin," he says.

And as he and Zaraki draw their weapons, Komamura lets himself look into a single, wild eye and wonders how the anticipation he sees in it feels, wonders if he'll ever know himself, this thing called joy.

He supposes now is as good a time as any to start.

**END**


	450. Rebels

**450.**

**Title:** Rebels  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GrimmjowxIl Forte, vaguely Il Fortexlots of Arrankar.  
**Word Count:** 719  
**Warning/s: **Vague pron and vague spoilers for the early part of the current Arrankar/Vizord arc.  
**Summary:** Grimmjow and Aizen don't always see eye to eye.  
**Dedication:** Reki- I guess the cuddles helped. XD  
**A/N: **FINALLY this word doc is done! Now I just have to decide if it's even worth making and naming one "Bleach- Drabble (451-500)." I guess we'll see. --;;

* * *

The pretty ones are for everyone's enjoyment, Aizen says. 

Grimmjow makes a face at that, thinks it's a fuckin' waste of time. The hell is the point? Doesn't make you stronger. Can't feel as good as fightin'. Pathetic.

He thinks Aizen-sama's just a goddamned pervert and is trainin' everyone else to be just the same.

Thinks it right up until the moment he sees Il Forte sliding effortlessly between Gin and Luppi on the polished floors of Hueco Mundo, all white skin and soft sighs and graceful arches between two sinisterly smiling pairs of lips.

The pretty ones are for everyone's enjoyment, Aizen says.

Something about that still doesn't sit right with Grimmjow, though those are his fingers tracing over one sharp shoulder blade, even though it's his cock sliding in and out of Forte's ass, his teeth covered in blood from biting down on a pale, perfect throat. The taste is dark and sweet on his tongue and Forte hisses underneath him, long curtain of hair obscuring his face as he submits on hands and knees, fingers fisted tight against his palm and nails digging into pink-flushed skin.

He cries out when he comes and Grimmjow wraps an arm around him to keep him from collapsing onto the floor beneath them, holds him up until he finishes too, manages to pull out and roll Forte on top of him after, while he waits for his breathing to even out.

"Hmm," Forte murmurs tiredly, and touches the wound seeping blood on his throat with a small frown. "Why…"

"Shaddup," Grimmjow grunts, and Il Forte complies, though he still looks perplexed.

The pretty ones are for everyone's enjoyment, Aizen says.

And it doesn't sit quite right with Grimmjow when he walks in and sees other Arrankar climbing on top of Forte, when he has to walk by a room and sees the long-haired bull surrounded by disgusting bastards like Yammi and Di, or bent over Aizen-sama's chair, or with cruelly smirking Ulquiorra pinning him by the throat to the wall even when he's got that bruise there, that mark that means keep the fuck away.

It really pisses him the hell off.

Everyone's enjoyment, huh?

Tch. Bullshit.

"You like what those filthy bastards do to you?" he asks one day, idly toying with long strands of white-blond hair in the moments of calm that come only after they'd fucked.

Forte sniffs, delicately. "Of course not. They're disgusting. Yammi hurts."

Grimmjow winces at that mental image a little, makes a disgusted face. "Yeah."

Forte's idly touching the bloody mark Grimmjow's left—on his chest this time—and it almost looks like he's smiling a little.

"Guess Aizen-sama," Grimmjow starts, ironically, "lied when he said everyone was supposed to have fun, eh?"

"Hmmm," Forte murmurs, but doesn't say anything.

Grimmjow pauses then, shifts slightly so he can look down at the pretty face of the pretty Arrankar in his arms. "Hey," he says, and smirks as he does, "wanna come with me to do something really fun?"

Forte pauses to blink at him, recognizing something in Grimmjow's tone that probably means trouble. "What are you planning?"

Grimmjow outright grins then, and his hand absently trails down to trace the blood-oozing wound on Forte's chest, right below the jut of his collarbone where he'd bit down hard a little while ago. "Plannin' a little trip," he explains, and digs his fingers into the wound, causing Forte to hiss, though not in an entirely bad way. "Whaddya think?"

The long-haired Arrankar arches a bit as dark blood begins to seep down the front of his stomach. "Aizen-sama won't like it," he purrs, and moves his body in a way that makes Grimmjow want to leave bruises in the shapes of hands all over it.

"C'mon, Il," he says, voice low, "Ain't you sick of being told what to do? 'Sides," he adds, rolling them both over, "it'll be fun, promise."

Forte tosses his hair over the back of his shoulder and smiles, breathlessly. "We're gonna get in trouble, you know."

Grimmjow laughs and licks blood off of his fingertips. "Yeah."

"We could die," Forte adds, though his voice is dreamy enough as Grimmjow touches him that the words don't really matter.

"Like I said, fun for everyone," Grimmjow grunts, and shoves Forte's legs apart.

**END**


	451. Formal Education

**451.**

**Title:** Formal Education  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Renji, Byakuya (RenjixByakuya if you squint? But mostly friendship, I think. )  
**Word Count:** 806  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine. Just OOC. But I'm having fun, so leave me alone. XD  
**Summary:** Frat boy meets prep-school boy.  
**Dedication:** Seca- believe in the possibilities? XD  
**A/N: **Silliness, because I haven't written Renji and Byakuya in a while, or something. XD

* * *

Through the course of the years, Abarai Renji had taken it upon himself to teach Kuchiki Byakuya all the things he felt were missing from the older man's admittedly rigorous, though frighteningly incomplete education. 

"Renji, I don't see why…"

"Shhh, just do it like I told ya, will ya? It's an experience everybody's gotta have, far as I'm concerned. Now go on'n stick it in. Ain't gonna hurt nobody."

And then Renji grinned at him, enough that Byakuya almost believed whatever it was the redhead was telling him.

He stuck the device in, and there was a pop and a hiss as air was released from the previously airtight container.

Some beer dripped onto the floor.

Renji whooped. "Keg's tapped, boys! Dig in!!" he announced, and Byakuya watched with mild amusement as Iba, Shuuhei, Ikkaku, and a slew of others stepped forward and moved to fill their cups.

Byakuya didn't see why tapping a keg was an experience he absolutely _needed_ to have, but he supposed the pleased, relaxed expressions on everyone's faces as they drank beer and chatted idly in his presence was something rather remarkable.

"So, you learn something?" Renji asked him later that night, amidst the drunken snores of their compatriots littered around the grounds of the Kuchiki home. Byakuya was certain the servants would have a ridiculous mess to clean up in the morning, but Renji assured him he'd make the assholes clean up after their own selves.

"I think I learned something," Byakuya confirmed, though he wasn't quite certain as to how to describe what it was, exactly. The content looks on all of their comrades' faces—drunk and drooling in their sleep as they were—was a difficult sort of lesson to put into words.

Renji beamed. "There's more where that came from!"

And Byakuya wasn't sure why—this supplementary education seemed entirely unnecessary after his previous one—but he found himself looking forward to it anyway.

Next they tried bazaar shopping, and Renji bought Byakuya taiyaki off of a street vendor whose little stand looked older than Yamamoto-soutaichou himself.

Byakuya eyed the offering in the brown paper bag warily. "You want me to eat that?" he asked, and looked at Renji skeptically.

"'s good," Renji declared, and bit into his own like that proved something. He burned his tongue and cursed, but promised that it was still good even through the pain.

Byakuya watched him. "The cook can make these back at the house," he said, and arched a brow as Renji took another bite and panted around it in his mouth to try and cool it down.

"'s different," Renji said, and didn't even try to explain _how_ exactly, it was. "Just eat it."

Byakuya sighed and complied. He burned his tongue too, on the hot oil and hot bean paste, and watched as Renji finished off his own doing the same stupid thing over and over again.

He supposed the redhead was right—for some reason, it tasted much better than the ones the Kuchiki chef made at Renji's numerous requests.

"Good, right?" Renji asked with a grin later, when they were both sipping cold drinks at yet another street vending stall in an attempt to cool their burned tongues down.

"Good," Byakuya admitted, and tried not to think about possible means of unsanitary food preparation.

"Cheap too," Renji added with a dreamy grin that told the older man that his companion was years in the past now, a scrawny street rat all over again, stealing when he could and dreaming of getting to burn his tongue on hot oil and red bean paste.

"Good," Byakuya echoed, and wondered if memory made things taste even better.

"So, whaddya think?" Renji asked after they'd finished their drinks and Byakuya paid the vendor for them both.

"I think I learned something," Byakuya said, and didn't say anything more than that. He wasn't sure how to put Renji's nostalgic smile and the ache of his burning tongue into words, after all. Not exactly.

Renji didn't push again, though, simply slung a companionable arm around Byakuya's shoulders as they walked through the marketplace and grinned. "Great," he declared, and his breath was close enough that Byakuya could smell a combination of red bean and iced yogurt drink on it. "Next!"

"Next?" Byakuya asked, blinking up at the redhead.

"Next!" Renji repeated, with a nod. "I'm takin' ya fishing."

"You are?"

"Yup! That nice little creek couple miles into the forests outsidea this area. Real pretty."

"Renji, that creek doesn't have any fish in it."

Renji's smile broadened, if possible, at the simple statement of fact. "That ain't the point."

Byakuya sighed, but felt an answering tug on the corner of his mouth at the younger man's enthusiasm. "I suppose it's not."

Renji laughed, and patted Byakuya's back. "Now you're gettin' it."

**END**


	452. Self Improvement

**452.**

**Title:** Self-Improvement  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh division, Twelfth division  
**Word Count:** 881  
**Warning/s: **Crack and OOC. I like being stupid today, leave me alone.  
**Summary:** The eleventh division is an imprecise science.  
**Dedication:** Errrr… this has more character rape than usual, so I guess it's only fair that I only sort-of dedicate it to Shini and leave like, 50 of the dedication unattached so that whoever actually likes it can claim it. XD  
**A/N: **It figures I get drab ideas while I'm supposed to be working on my paper outline that's due Mon.

* * *

The members of the eleventh division alter their bodies with sweat and hard work, primitive battles for idiotic causes and a general fear of their leader. They brawl and run and scream at the top of their lungs and either grow stronger for it or die. 

Scars from imprecise methods of self-improvement litter their hard, muscled bodies and what works for one doesn't work for another, the wide range and various results of their abilities enough to make any scientifically-minded individual mad with the disorganization of it all.

One whose muscles are thin and wiry, but whose endurance far outstrips that of the others, fleet of foot and swift of mind and just strong enough to get by.

One whose strength lies in arms and chest, whose greater size makes for slower, but more powerful attack statistics than his smaller companion. Less stamina perhaps, but brute strength to make up for it.

One whose stats defy most conventions. Strength and speed of equal standing but inexperience and a short attention span the greatest sources of weakness—too much little girl joy to do much but run around, concentrating strength in the legs and leaving the arms generally useless.

And then the leader, the epitome of a disorganized, old-fashioned (outdated) means of acquiring strength. Power without control, thoughtless and without strategy, musculature concentrated in the arms and the advantage given in humongous size and an almost limitless natural power garnered undoubtedly, from countless mindless brawls with like-minded individuals.

A nightmare for those who wish to compile any sort of concrete data sets on the patterns of shinigami types from division to division as found in seireitei.

Best to toss it out as an anomaly- a deviant set of findings from the established norm.

Mayuri can't be bothered with trying to sort out something as freakish and unpredictable as the findings they'd gathered from the eleventh division, after all. He's a man who prefers absolute order so that those who might look back on the records-- years, decades, centuries from now-- will know with just a glance, the heights, weights, methodical alterations, and means of experimentation used to build the members of his twelfth division. Via his rigorous and regimented documentation requirements, those looking back will know the precise ratios of added ability and the costs for each change made on any twelfth division member's body.

Plus two units muscle mass for four times the additional strength. Minus one to two factors of speed depending on positioning of addition.

Plus one million synapses for a level two upgrade of mental processing ability. Overuse over the course of a year may lead to gradual breakdown of neuron paths required for basic motor functions of the body.

Plus seven genes for healing ability increased by a factor of eight. Lifespan deduction of half a century or more, depending on amount and frequency of injuries.

Alteration of dietary supplements to add two hours of absolute concentration to maximum capacity in an individual who already possesses additional synaptic alterations as well as an upgraded healing factor.

Etc., etc., etc.

It's all there. Every tweak, every experiment, every change he's made on the members of his division. All noted with a date, a time, a number, and a result. Each study compiled into one large chart afterwards to provide a summary overview of the overall patterns of growth or decline discovered in that particular study. The records are then organized and filed separately for each experiment.

Stored alphabetically and all with his signature of approval after a thorough review whether he participated in the study directly or merely oversaw it.

Orderly.

Neat.

Precise.

A far superior method of self-improvement than that of the eleventh division, as the results can be reproduced with infinite and accurate consistency for generations to come.

That decided, Mayuri promptly ignores some of his division members as they stagger in, bloody and bruised and wet and cursing Zaraki's men to the heavens.

"ARGH I hate those lazy, crude, gambling know-nothings! How is it fair that they don't even know how to calculate something as simple as the angular momentum vector for a single particle in a polarized energy field but they can still judge how to throw me into the koi pond one-armed and backwards without looking?"

"Muscle memory, most likely. They probably spent days working out how to gauge the force and angle of arc trajectory required for that distance."

Pause. Then, "A little sympathy, please?"

"Er, right. They're just bullies because they're too stupid to be anything else."

"Tch. Still not fair. I'm going to the lab right now and getting a plus-two muscle mass upgrade! That'll show them."

"Don't do anything hasty! You're still recovering from the gene therapy that fixed your vision, remember?"

Mayuri sighs as the voices fade down the corridor, long-suffering, and rubs his temples as he feels a headache coming on.

Really, the eleventh division doesn't make _any_ sense.

He mutters to himself and stands, crossing his office to the little cabinet on the side where he keeps his headache medicine.

If anything, at least he knows without a shadow of a doubt that two pills taken with eight ounces of water will alleviate the pounding by precisely a factor of four in the next thirty-to-forty minutes.

**END**


	453. Commiserating

**453.**

**Title:** Commiserating  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Shuuhei, Renji (light ShuuheixYumichika)  
**Word Count:** 485  
**Warning/s: **Minor spoilers for the SS arc. Silliness.   
**Summary:** Renji lends a sympathetic ear. Or at least, a bottle or two.  
**Dedication:** chibify- thanks for mending my broken heart some last night.  
**A/N: **Ahaha I dunno. I totally did this for the last few lines I guess.

* * *

"He drives me crazy," Shuuhei murmurs, and tosses back a shot of vodka like it's water. "He won't stop following me around." 

"Huh," Renji responds, and isn't sure if it sounds absent or sympathetic on account of the fact that he isn't sure which of the two he was going for when he said it, really.

"He makes me carry stuff for him. Calls me names and I always end up buying him candy just so he'll shut up for a while."

"Huh," Renji says again, and motions to the barkeep to keep the alcohol coming to the both of them. Best sort of comfort a guy like him can offer. Ain't like he's good with words, anyway.

Hisagi groans and rubs his forehead like he's trying to smooth out the permanent furrow that's been there over the last couple of weeks. "I can't believe he beat me."

"Mmm," Renji says, switching it up for some variation as he throws back tequila and chews on lime.

"You know what really pisses me off?"

"Huh?"

"The fact that he thinks it's the most normal thing in the world. Beat me and then he smiles like he smiles and has nothin' to say 'bout it but laughin' at me, really."

"Hmm."

A fist hits the bar, a little more forcefully than it ought to have, maybe. "What the hell is up with those feathers, anyway?"

"Uh…"

"And who the hell can take themselves seriously as a shinigami goin' 'round smellin' like flowers?"

Renji blinks. "So…"

"Exactly!" Shuuhei finishes for him. "Flowers. Fuckin' ridiculous, right? Not even perfume. 'S expensive _soap_. Can you believe it?"

Renji doesn't really think he can.

"And the way he _walks_… with the _hips_ and… _fuck._ No goddamned shame, the little bastard."

Renji decides not to say anything for a moment, lost in some strangely deep, fuzzy thought as he pours Shuuhei more alcohol. He's missing something here, he is.

"The fuck does Ikkaku put up with him? I'll never understand it. Man like that… there's something _wrong_ with him."

The redhead blinks again. "Huh…." he says, and it's more to himself than in response to Shuuhei this time.

"That all you got to say?" Shuuhei grunts, and sounds absolutely, one-hundred-percent miserable.

Renji tries to remember the last thing that made him sound that miserable to himself.

Motions for the barkeep to leave the whole damned bottle of vodka when he remembers what it was a moment or two later, wincing to himself because there are suddenly pixy smiles and big blue eyes flashing in the back of his mind.

"So," Renji asks, and fills Hisagi's glass, right up to the brim, "When didja figure out you were in love with the guy?"

Hisagi sighs. "I dunno. Yesterday, maybe."

"Yesterday, huh?"

"Mmmm. I cut myself shaving."

"Huh. Well… congrats, I guess."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Between them, they finish the whole damn bottle of vodka.

**END**


	454. Love You'll Never Know

**454.**

**Title:** Love You'll Never Know  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Grimmjow, Tousen (lightly, vaguely, maybe GrimmjowxIl Forte)  
**Word Count:** 794  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the early parts of the current Arrankar arc.  
**Summary:** Grimmjow doesn't understand.  
**Dedication:** kinoscythe- You totally made me all sad with your fic and now I need to try and make myself feel better. TOO BAD IT DIDN'T WORK.  
**A/N: **This totally doesn't even make sense. I know, I know. I shouldn't try and wax philosophical. Ever.

* * *

Love is an abstract entity in Hueco Mundo—Aizen-sama speaks of it like it's an old, familiar friend and Gin declares it for just about everyone who can keep his attention for more than a minute-- but to the Arrankar themselves, it doesn't really mean anything, doesn't really attach itself to something concrete in their world. 

They might have known it once—maybe—a long time ago in a mortal life, but death and transformation into a Hollow followed by rebirth from Hougyoku as an Arrankar wipes the majority of that distant past away, and so when Aizen-sama speaks of love, each Arrankar can only conjure up an image from his or her own imagination and wonder as to the holes on their bodies that suggest something is missing from them.

On the other hand, pain is something they understand much more—the physical torment of turning from Hollow to Arrankar is a reminder, the numerous fights they get into amongst one another a lesson in it, and Aizen-sama and Gin-sama's punishments a familiar blend of ache and pleasure unto themselves. All hurt in varying degrees, all cause some sort of burning, bleeding, aching pain that's sharp and hot.

Like the loss of an arm being severed perhaps. A familiar hurt.

Nothing novel, nothing abstract—Pain is something Grimmjow understands completely for all its straightforwardness, its simplicity.

What once was there is no more. It hurt to lose, but hurts no longer. A definite beginning and an end, a cause and an effect.

What the former Espada doesn't understand is the dull ache of something else that lingers with him long after the day of his misdeeds, the strange feeling that's a mix of familiarity (it hurts like the stub of his shoulder did in the days immediately following the severing of his limb), through the ache itself is strange in that it's brought on by something as abstract as thought rather than something solid, like contact.

"We'll follow you," Il Forte had said in the moments before their departure, when he'd looked at those gathered around him one last time, assured of the flawless victories yet to come.

"We're gonna have fun!" Di had added loudly, bouncing on the balls of his feet in an overtly anticipatory manner.

Shawlong had cuffed the brat for being noisy and Forte had winked at Grimmjow then, a smile only half-sinister on his pretty face as they'd made their way into the mortal world.

"We're gonna get in trouble," Grimmjow had murmured under his breath with something like a smirk, and Forte had tossed his hair over his shoulder at that, had let the backs of his fingers brush absently against the jut of Grimmjow's hip.

"We'll follow you," he'd said again, and that had been that.

When Grimmjow looks back on that moment now, he frowns and wonders why the hell it feels like his arm being rended from his body all over again, a thousand times in a row.

"Leading your comrades to ignoble, pointless death is the greatest sin," Tousen had said one day, finding Grimmjow alone in one of Hueco Mundo's many winding halls, nursing his pride rather than his wound at that moment.

The Arrankar hadn't understood what the taciturn bastard meant when he'd said it, because like love, sin is just as foreign a concept to the likes of Grimmjow and his brethren.

"I don't get it!" he'd shouted after Kaname, a half-snarl that in reality had almost seemed like a student asking teacher a question. "I don't fuckin' understand what it means!"

"Pain," Tousen had said simply, putting it terms Grimmjow would know. "You understand that, don't you?"

Grimmjow hadn't answered.

"Every time you remember the faces, the voices of those who believed in you, it will hurt," Tousen had murmured, sounding far, far away. "Perhaps you'll atone for your sins then, by experiencing love and loss in such a manner, Grimmjow. Perhaps you'll learn from it."

To this day Grimmjow still doesn't understand any of the long-winded nonsense Tousen had spouted, because concepts like love and sin and atonement don't mean anything—will never mean anything-- to the Arrankar. But he supposes he can understand that last part a little. Grimmjow understands loss if nothing else, he thinks, looking at the place where an arm used to be.

And when he closes his eyes and sees Forte's face, when he hears, "We'll follow you," over and over and over again in his head and feels ghostly fingers brushing past the jut of his hip, it hurts just like a limb being carved from his body a hundred thousand times.

The Arrankar don't understand love, but Grimmjow is beginning to think that maybe pain isn't so far removed from it.

**END**


	455. Centuries Young

**455.**

**Title:** Centuries Young  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 663  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine, just fluff here. XD  
**Summary:** Shunsui's birthday.  
**Dedication:** Soph- Thanks for your bribes! And you will make a kickass Hisagi. XD  
**A/N: **I probably should have studied instead of going off to write this, but eh. Only so much studying my brain can take before it pops.

* * *

Jyuushirou liked doing sweet things for Shunsui's birthday, and often visited the other captain on his special day with homemade gifts of food and drink. He gave him small, thoughtful presents too—a nice brush to replace the one he'd ruined dunking into a full sake cup instead of his inkwell, a new hat for the one Nanao beat him with until it was flattened, a file organizer for his reports that always seem to fall out of their rightful places and end up all over the office. He always baked the other captain a cake as well, and lit it with candles so that they could celebrate properly and have a nice, sweet after-supper snack together with some good green tea. 

This year the present had been an appointment book (in the hopes that Shunsui would stop being late to administrative meetings), and the cake was vanilla with chocolate icing.

They sat together out on the taller captain's back porch after having enjoyed said cake and said tea, gazing out into the warm summer evening side-by-side and sipping sweet red wine. Ukitake smiled at Shunsui after a moment and asked how the other man felt to be another year older, imagining that they would have a nice, quiet evening together, sitting around like this and reminiscing, or just enjoying each other's company and not speaking at all.

"Aaah, I feel as young as ever, Jyuu-chan," Shunsui responded, winking warmly. "Looking at you right now, I feel near fifty again."

Ukitake turned slightly pink around the ears at that—oh the things they had _done _when they'd been a mere fifty years old-- and smiled ruefully as he refilled Shunsui's cup. "I see."

On Kyouraku's birthday, Jyuushirou liked to do nice, thoughtful things and enjoy the peace and quiet of being together. Nothing flashy, nothing grand, just… nice. Familiar.

On his birthday, Shunsui wanted to remember all the things that made it great to be alive, to be a couple of centuries young and still going strong. Blood pumping in his veins red and hot, smile threatening to split his face and all the other joys that came with living.

He knew Jyuu-chan liked his quiet, liked his peace, but on days like today Shunsui was feeling particularly amorous, particularly energized, and most importantly, particularly shameless about getting everything he wanted.

Felt like he was very near fifty again when he looked out at Jyuu-chan in this killer moonlight, really.

"Hey," he started, and put his drink down, mid-way through it.

"Hmmm?" Ukitake asked, innocently enough, though both knew they _weren't_ fifty again, and that this wasn't that same old awkward dance they'd tangoed as naïve kids with crushes.

Not so innocently then. Maybe coy.

Shunsui grinned. "Hey," he echoed and reached forward, tugged Jyuu-chan into his lap.

"Hmmm?" Ukitake repeated, and it was definitely more coy than innocent now. "I was drinking."

"It's my birthday," Shunsui murmured, and touched his forehead to Jyuushirou's.

"Hence the cake. And the presents," Ukitake agreed, with an overt sense of obviousness.

His eyes were amazing in the light.

"I feel like I'm fifty again," Shunsui whispered, fingers reaching up to cup that equally amazing face.

Ukitake wrinkled his nose at that, and it was possibly the most adorable thing Kyouraku had ever seen. "I hope you don't plan on attacking me the same way you did when we were fifty."

Shunsui grinned. "Nah, I like to think I've learned a coupla things since then."

Jyuushirou rolled his eyes then, but laughed, sweet and warm against Shunsui's cheek. "I hope you have."

Shunsui couldn't keep long, calloused fingers from stroking that pale, perfect skin as he laughed right back. "Want me to show you, Jyuu-chan?"

"Happy birthday," Jyuushirou responded, and Shunsui didn't need any more invitation than that before he laid them both down and let himself be fifty again, but with the advantage of a couple hundred years more experience.

It was good to be young.

**END**


	456. This One's On Me

**456.**

**Title:** This One's On Me  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Yumichika  
**Word Count:** 429  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the current Arrankar arc.  
**Summary:** Yumichika gets solicited.  
**Dedication:** Um. Gonna not, cuz this one really blows.  
**A/N: **rolls I really can't think of anything to write. So this is me forcing myself and hating what I get, but whatever. Maybe it'll get the juices flowing. O.o

* * *

Yumichika sighed and turned the little rectangle of paper he'd received earlier around in his hands, eyeing it with a mixture of amusement and thoughtfulness. He sighed. 

Turned it around more and more.

Sighed louder.

"Whuzzat?" Ikkaku asked, when he couldn't take it anymore (i.e. got the hint).

Yumichika, pleased that his friend had so suddenly—out of the blue, really—taken an interest in his life, passed the little card over.

Ikkaku squinted at it for a bit. "Jerry Pro?" he asked, and flicked the card back. "The hell is that?"

Yumichika smiled lazily back at his friend. "They want to make me a star."

Ikkaku would have thought his friend would be happier at that, imagined the bastard with his hand to his chest and laughing, some sort of "Hahahaha, of _course_ you'd want to look at me all day if you could!" type of angle instead of the strange impartiality he was looking at now.

"So, what's the problem, you not interested?" the bald death god questioned.

"Mm… it seems so ugly, really," Yumichika responded, smoothing his hair down with his fingers like the thought of being a celebrity had physically ruffled his feathers somehow.

"Ugly?"

Yumichika looked at his companion like he wasn't getting something very obvious. "Could you imagine it?" he asked, and shuddered a bit to himself when he did. "All those ugly people out in the world, having free range access to my image? Gathering in disgusting little groups and drooling over me… trying to do what I do, wear what I wear, be like _me_?" He sniffed. "I think it's the singularly most insulting offer I've ever had."

Ikkaku blinked. "So… don't do it?"

Yumichika beamed. "Precisely!"

Ikkaku wasn't following. "The fuck? Then why the hell are you sittin' there sighin' 'bout it if you already know what you're gonna do?"

Yumichika looked amused and reached out, patting his friend on the shoulder. "The disgusting little man who gave me this card said to call him back. He'd take me to a nice lunch, and we could discuss terms."

Ikkaku blinked. "But…you're gonna say no."

"Yes."

"Then…"

Yumichika spoke slowly. "Would you like to have lunch with me, Ikkaku?"

"I don't get it."

Yumi sighed. "Would you like to have _free_ lunch with me, Ikkaku? _Expensive_ free lunch?"

Ikkaku blinked again. "You mean… free lunch I don't gotta…" he gestured down to the fluffy bunny love-love shirt he was currently wearing.

Yumichika nodded (slowly as well, just in case). "Exactly."

Ikkaku grinned. "You're my best friend."

Yumi sparkled. "I know."

**END**


	457. A Momentous Ocassion Ineeded

**457.**

**Title:** A Momentous Occasion Indeed!  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Isshin, IchigoxRukia (mentions of IsshinxMasaki)  
**Word Count:** 715 (haha, well, what do you know? Lucky!)  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine. Some ridiculousness though.  
**Summary:** Future fic- Isshin visits Ichigo on a special day.  
**Dedication:** Jen- you're the only other IchixRuki fan I can think of on my f-list. WE'RE SO ALONE?  
**A/N: **Ichigo's birthday fic (7/15). AND LAME.

* * *

Many years ago this day, Isshin remembers having had a spectacular premonition. 

"Something great is going to happen today!" he'd thought as he'd left for work that day.

And true to his prediction, Masaki had stumbled into the clinic a little while later, looking breathless and excited-- a little bit scared as she'd clutched her stomach. "Isshin," she'd said, and smiled.

He'd smiled back, and Ichigo had maybe been fated to always be a momma's boy, because he popped right out a couple of hours later and blinked at Masaki and took right to her.

A tiny fist had also popped Isshin on the nose when he'd delivered his son, but he hadn't taken that into consideration as a permanent part of Ichigo's disposition, all things considered.

What he's trying to say anyway, is that because it's today (being the anniversary of that momentous occasion that it is), he feels that something great is going to happen all over again.

"I'm going to go visit Ichigo!" he announces to the empty house, and closes the clinic for the day. Karin and Yuzu would be mad at him if they found out he'd left off work while they were out to go and see their brother, but for momentous occasions like today they'd just have to excuse him.

That in mind, he drives all the way into Tokyo without a backwards glance that very morning and invades the university's dormitory upon arrival a few hours later, running about and grabbing unsuspecting underclassmen (easy prey as they're listless for having been stuck in summer school for the past month or so), in the hopes that they'd be able to tell him which room the orange-haired junior with the sour temper and cute fiancée lives.

When he's finally told where Ichigo lives, in lieu of going to the door to his son's room and knocking, he goes back outside to his car, gets some rope with which to construct a pulley, and hauls himself up to Ichigo's fifth story window by means of a sturdy tree conveniently placed right outside.

A surprise attack is best after all—especially on this very special day.

Except when he pulls up to the window he sees that Ichigo isn't alone, and well, he supposes that's to be expected, especially since today is special.

There's a half eaten chocolate cake on the table in the middle of his son's room and Rukia-chan is there too, though there aren't any presents anywhere in the little dormitory that Isshin can see.

Well, that just won't do! Ichigo might opt to take extra classes in the summer to get ahead of his coursework and not even come home, but on this most important of days, even an ungrateful son like that needs a nice present or two!

Isshin decides to make up for it by showing up right now, right now. The visit of a father who has burning manly love for his son should be the best possible gift on this special day, shouldn't it?

Getting ready to spring in through the glass—it doesn't matter if it's closed and locked, papa's love is unstoppable!—Isshin alights on top of the tree branch outside and crouches for maximum springing-up power, poised for his attack.

And just as he's about to go—

-- the little spaghetti strap of Rukia-chan's cute little sundress falls right off of her shoulder.

Oh.

Well.

Isshin supposes-- pausing mid-spring—that that's a pretty good present too. Incomparable to a papa's manly burning love of course, but not half bad by standards.

He looks away then (because he's not a pervert or anything), though it's not his fault he could see Rukia-chan kiss Ichigo and push him onto the bed out of the corner of his eye. Hee-heeing to himself, he lowers himself to the ground from the tree all over again, grinning stupidly and feeling very, very triumphant once his feet hit the dirt.

"I knew it!" he exclaims to himself gleefully in the parking lot a few minutes later. "A momentous day all over again!"

He drives straight home at full speed (whistling all the while), fully intent on calling Ryuu-chan right away and crowing over the fact that clearly, he's going to get to be a grandpa first.

**END**


	458. Origins

**458.**

**Title:** Origins   
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Iba, Ikkaku, Yumichika, Kenpachi, Yachiru, Komamura  
**Word Count:** 999 (whoo!)  
**Warning/s: **No spoiler I can imagine, just um… thug love silliness.  
**Summary:** Never forget where you came from.  
**Dedication:** Yoshi- thanks for offering to help us out with the doujin! I hope your eyes feel better. ;;  
**A/N: **This started out as Tetsu's birthday fic, but ended up not involving his birthday all that much. All in all, though, it's my tribute to him. So. Yeah. Happy belated birthday, Iba!

* * *

When Tetsuzaemon told his captain about his plans to leave the eleventh division and join the seventh, Kenpachi simply grunted at him and said, "Do what you like." 

Ikkaku snorted and made Iba buy him a drink while Yumichika laughed prettily, saying, "My, how ugly," as the sparkling fifth seat made Tetsuzaemon blush with absently wandering hands.

Yachiru blinked at him and then announced, "Let's play tag!"

He spent the next hour or so after that running and screaming and not sure if she'd understood him properly.

All in all, Tetsuzaemon got the feeling that he wasn't really going to be missed at the eleventh.

Which was fine with him, because it wasn't like he expected anything sentimental or nothing. Wasn't their style.

And he wasn't one of them anymore, after all.

So he left the eleventh's headquarters on his fated day and knocked on Komamura-taichou's door, reporting as his new vice-captain.

He got a tour of the facilities and was put right to work.

With time, he learned how to get along without taking pulls from a hipflask throughout the day, and after the first week, he even figured out how to fill out paperwork without using Yumichika's pre-written "forms-made-easy-for-morons" template.

He learned discipline (sort of) and learned what Komamura-taichou wanted from him. He even discovered that he respected his new captain very much.

Meanwhile, whenever he passed the eleventh division headquarters and heard the screams from beyond the gates, he could imagine the scene behind it perfectly from his memories. Ikkaku barking out orders, Yumichika going out of his way to ignore them, and all the while, Yachiru laughing and hopping from one member's shoulders to another's. In the meantime, Kenpachi would be ordering underlings to bring him some goddamned beer 'cuz it was too hot for this shit.

When Komamura-taichou caught him staring at the gate with a far-off look in his eye he would sternly, but gently, tell Iba to "Please pay attention, Tetsuzaemon."

He wasn't one of them anymore, after all.

"It's better this way, isn't it?" Shuuhei said one day. "You can still go drinking with them on the weekends, but at least this way you get actual work done."

"Maybe," Iba responded, and tried not to remember Yachiru asking for a story or picture the way Yumichika winked at him flirtatiously when they bumped into each other and the fifth seat lingered against his chest just a little longer than necessary to unsettle him.

He wasn't one of them anymore, and he was learning how to deal with that.

A big battle came one day, and squads from divisions six-through-eleven were called to the frontline.

Tetsuzaemon got injured early, catching a glancing blow from a Cero wave when he'd pushed some of his subordinates out of its path, but he just switched sword arms and kept fighting.

Lots of shinigami died that day, and before long, the retreat was called because seireitei didn't see the point in losing more for a lost cause.

"We'll retreat last!" Komamura-taichou volunteered, because he was noble like that. Headquarters agreed that it was the best plan.

So the other divisions pulled out one by one and the seventh was all alone as they began their retreat, defending the other teams' backs as they did. Tetsuzaemon thought that they were going to get wiped out.

But he kept fighting because he could hear Ikkaku's sneers in his mind, could picture Yumi's flitting laughter at his weakness and Yachiru's encouragement that was almost always, "Ne, stop being a scaredy-cat, okay?"

In the background, he imagined that he heard Zaraki-taichou's voice too, telling him that the eleventh didn't have no losers in it.

"Final retreat!" Komamura-taichou demanded.

But before he could turn to comply, there was a hand suddenly reaching out towards Tetsuzaemon, and a dying seventh division member had looked him straight in the eye, begging not to be left behind.

Before he knew it he was dashing right back into the line of fire, much to Komamura-taichou's horror.

He managed to pick up the fallen subordinate and practically pitch the poor bastard in his captain's direction with a shout of, "Sorry, sir!!" before he was slashed across the gut and couldn't stand anymore. He fell and remembered thinking, "I better die, 'cuz those bastards aren't ever gonna let me live it down if I make it," right before he passed out. The last thing he saw was the Menos, its Cero beam charging right over him.

When he woke up he was in the fourth division ward and bandaged so tight he could barely see.

The hottest news in seireitei that morning was about Zaraki's division and how they'd all ignored blatant retreat orders from Yamamoto-soutaichou in the heat of battle. Many of their ranks had been wiped out.

At the hearing, Zaraki laughed in the faces of his superiors and said, "We beat the hell out of those fuckers."

Yachiru and Ikkaku and Yumichika came to visit Iba in the sick bay later, and the latter two looked only slightly less bandaged up than he was.

"How ugly,' Yumichika purred, and ran his fingers over Iba's chest.

"Got your damned ass kicked, didn'tcha?" Ikkaku barked before tossing Iba the hipflask full of whiskey he'd smuggled in past the orderlies.

"Read me a story!" Yachiru demanded, and didn't have a scratch on her.

When they left he was just a little bit drunk (happily), and feeling a hell of a lot better about himself than he had in a long time.

Komamura-taichou visited him next, and tried to look disapproving past his relief. "You disobeyed a direct order," he grunted, but didn't say anything else.

"But we sure beat the hell outta those fuckers, didn't we?" Iba laughed, and reopened his wound.

Komamura sighed and told him to please get some rest.

That day Iba fell asleep smiling even though it hurt, because it had been a long damned time since he last remembered who he was.

**END**


	459. Forms Made Easy For Morons

**459.**

**Title:** Forms Made Easy (For Morons)  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh division  
**Word Count:** 876  
**Warning/s: **OOCness and stupidity, but no spoilers.  
**Summary:** Yumichika makes things easier on the eleventh division.  
**Dedication:** sophiap- You'll make a shiny, shiny Kenpachi.  
**A/N: **Ahaha this was funnier in my head, I swear.

* * *

"The hell do _I_ get blamed for this shit?" new captain Zaraki Kenpachi grumped one day, when he received a formal reprimand from Commander Yamamoto regarding his division's sloppy, illegible and often ungrammatical mission reports. 

"Maybe if you didn't just cut out the reports the men give you and paste them onto the ones you give Yamamoto-soutaichou?" Yumichika offered helpfully, and smiled in a way that made it kind of impossible for Kenpachi to punch him and tell him to shut the fuck up.

So Kenpachi grunted instead, and muttered, "Yeah well, I can't give the old bastard'n overview if I don't understand the hell happened myself."

Which, Yumichika supposed, was a good point. "Shall I help you with that, taichou?" he offered, and smiled in that same way, except this time, with an added glint in his eyes that told Zaraki he'd have to bribe the fruitcake first.

"Tch. If you can fix it you'll never hafta perform bathroom cleanin' duty ever again." Pause. Glower. "But if ya can't I'm uh…I'm…gonna cut onea your ears off'n pin it to my wall as um…a warnin'. For other people. Heh. Yeah," he added, to let the other man know who exactly, was boss here.

Yumichika twittered. "How barbaric." Pause. Smirk. "Deal."

And so, the infamous "forms-made-easy-for-morons" template was born.

Over the course of a week, Yumichika went through the majority of the division's more recent reports and managed to suss out all the major happenings that the eleventh division seemed to go through on average, taking the data he gathered from that and creating six simple, easy-to-understand categories of pre-made forms through which the men of the eleventh division could choose the best of (depending on the situation) for use while writing their reports. The categories were:

Stuff I killed

Stuff that killed other stuff

Stuff I broke

Stuff that broke me

Stuff I almost killed/broke

Stuff that almost killed/broke me

That decided, he proceeded to fill out the major points of all the paperwork for the men on the forms ahead of time, leaving blank spots only in places where specific information had to be filled in by the person or persons making the report. For example, a category one standard eleventh division report looked like:

I ,

(your name and/or mark)

Killed a total of (number of things killed)(name of thing/s killed) on the date of (month) (day)(year), at approximately the time of (time thing/s was/were killed).

I was accompanied by (name of squad mates drinking with you at the time if any- limit 3. If more, write "et. al"). The number of injuries sustained was (number of times you got hit). I and/or my companions defeated the enemy by using (name of attack you used or number of times you hit back). Upon completion of the task, I and/or my companions immediately reported to (name of seated officer you can best remember how to spell).

I/We won a great victory for all of Seireitei.

Signed,

(your name and/or mark)

When Zaraki received the templates exactly one week after Yumichika had set out about his task, he wondered vaguely, if he should be indignant. "What the hell am I supposed to do if nothin' gets killed or broke?" he asked, mostly because the way Yumichika was smiling kind of made him want to complain about something.

The fifth seat sparkled. "Then break a bone or two of theirs and have them fix the report. That way, everyone's happy! Besides, it would serve them right for not doing a proper killing job in the first place, ne?"

Kenpachi paused. Tilted his head. And then grinned, because the possibility of violence always seemed to make him happy. "Huh. I guess I like that idea."

"Of course you do!" Yumi declared, before turning around and stretching happily. "Well then. I'm going to go tell Ikkaku why it's his turn to clean the bathrooms again instead of mine."

Zaraki grunted noncommittally. "He ain't gonna be happy."

Yumi beamed and winked then, completely nonplussed at the potential threat of his friend's indignant rage. "I'll bring one of the category four forms for him to fill out after he tries to complain to me about the situation. That way, we can test the new forms to see how well they work!" He twittered at that, completely self-satisfied. "Really! How efficient of me!"

Kenpachi supposed that wasn't a bad idea, as far as ideas went.

"Er, take a category five too," he added, right before Yumichika sauntered out of the door. "In case the idiot actually thinks fer a change."

Yumi laughed sweetly. "How optimistic of you, taichou!"

Zaraki frowned and thought about that for a second. "We ain't gonna be usin' much of the fives, are we?"

"No, sir, I don't believe so." When Yumichika smiled again, Zaraki couldn't help but think he was kinda glad not to be Ikkaku at the moment.

As it was, the first report filed in the eleventh division using the "forms-made-easy-for-morons" template did indeed, happen to be a category four, submitted by none other than a very pissed off (but only marginally bloodied and beaten) Ikkaku Madarame.

**END**


	460. Sharper Than They Look

**460.**

**Title:** Sharper Than They Look  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Eleventh division, slight hints of ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 752  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for Shuuhei and Yumichika's fight in the SS arc, but nothing overt. Some OOCness and random speculation.  
**Summary:** Everyone's talking about Yumichika.  
**Dedication:** sophiap- I saw your prompt and wanted to write something serious. You know how well that goes for me.  
**A/N: **The request was "_beneath the surface_."

* * *

Ikkaku knew. 

Kenpachi knew too.

Yachiru knew—though no one knew she knew-- but she didn't understand why it was such a big deal to know or not know in the first place. As such she really didn't say anything on the subject either, as she was fairly certain the issue as a whole couldn't possibly be more interesting than the shiny rocks she'd found earlier this afternoon.

Ikkaku got a hint after the first couple of years—there was always something a little bit different from Fujikujaku than there was from all the other eleventh division battle-type zanpakutou. Yumichika's special spiritual signature and Fujikujaku's aura always felt like there was something else there that the regular cronies in the division were missing. Hozukimaru talked to him about it once, and said that fighters could smell fighters, and while Yumichika and Fujikujaku were both fighters, they smelled of something else as well.

Ikkaku was tempted to say "perfume" or some other such fruity stuff, but deep down in his gut he understood perfectly well what his sword meant when it was talking about smells.

Ikkaku always figured that Yumichika was special in his own ways, but he never would have guessed he was special like _that_.

"There's a sleeping beast hidden deep inside," Hozukimaru said, sounding like an old man when it talked about Fujikujaku. "For all the bastard's annoying, fruity, full-of-shit attitude, there's always somethin' there that seems… maybe not weird, but definitely not normal."

"I coulda told ya that," Ikkaku grunted, and just thought about Yumichika in general.

As for Kenpachi, he figured it out without the counsel of his zanpakutou, and if people knew the way he'd gone and thought about it, no one would ever call him stupid (behind his back of course) again.

"Never froze once," he told Ikkaku, when the bald third chair blinked dumbly up at him and couldn't quite believe that taichou had caught on too.

"Buh?" Ikkaku asked, and even momentarily forgot about his beer.

"He's like a fuckin' vacuum," Zaraki clarified, though perhaps, not enough.

Ikkaku's cheeks went pink. "I didn't know you two…"

Kenpachi scowled. "Not that kinda vacuum, ya dumbass. Least, as far as I know. You wanna know details 'bout that, go ask Hisagi."

Ikkaku made a face. "No thanks."

"What I meant was…in general he's like a vacuum." The eleventh division captain shrugged one shoulder lazily and sipped his beer. "Like… everybody at his supposed level of reiatsu…when I let mine go for real… ain't a one among 'em that don't freeze for just a second. I can feel it. 's like a recoil… when ya hit a guy who don't expect to be hit he flails a lot more'n a guy who expects it, ya know? Same as with a guy who's lots weaker'n you. With botha those things happening, bastard shoulda froze, even if it was only fer a second."

"Yup," Ikkaku agreed, and knew _exactly_ what Zaraki meant. His captain was good at putting things in terms he and the rest of the division would understand.

"But the first time I did it 'round him," Zaraki continued, and sounded kind of annoyed when he recalled the incident, "bastard just smiled at me and felt like he'd cleared the goddamn air out 'round himself or somethin'… fresh as a fuckin' daisy. Just felt paper thin, but I couldn't feel my own reiatsu touchin' him none—like it'd gone and disappeared when it hit his skin or somethin'. I didn't understand it then on account of the fact that I was too fixated on his annoyin' ass smile, but I guess… thinkin' on it now, I get it."

"Huh," Ikkaku said, and suddenly remembered his beer.

"Then again," the larger Shinigami grunted as he finished his own bottle off, "just lookin' at the fruity bastard after 'bout half a second, you'd know ain't nothin' normal about him."

"Here, here," Madarame agreed, and went to get his captain another cold one.

No one knew how Yachiru figured it out (or that she even knew it at all), but if someone might have asked her, she would have said, "Fujiku-chan plays with me all the time!" and left it that. Though today, she might have added, "He likes shiny things he can see himself in, so I got him these rocks!"

It was a little bit on the ironic side maybe, but it seemed then, that Yumichika wasn't the only one in the eleventh division who had hidden talents.

**END**


	461. No Ill Intentions

**461.**

**Title:** No Ill-Intentions  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly Urahara+Soi Fong, some YoruichixSoi Fong, and some UraharaxYoruichi, mentions of Mayuri and vague but not-really-there UraharaxMayuri  
**Word Count:** 999  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for Urahara and Yoruichi and Soi Fong's pasts, though nothing groundbreaking.  
**Summary:** Urahara is helpful.   
**Dedication:** Reki- Haha I never ever would have written Urahara flirting with Soi Fong otherwise. 3  
**A/N: **The request was "_Transparency and a Kiss_." This is going to be hard. O.o

* * *

"Maa, who's this cute little bee?" Urahara asked, and almost reached out to pat Soi Fong's head. Her glare stayed his hand, though he reached into his pocket for some candy he kept to spoil Mayu-chan with on occasion and offered her one. 

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. "Oi," she said, and eyed her subordinate. "He's kind of a weird pervert I guess, but he's not a bad guy or anything. Kisuke, this is Soi Fong…" she paused, smirking slightly, "my bodyguard."

The expression on the younger woman's face instantly softened at the sound of Yoruichi's voice, and to Urahara's great interest, two tiny pink spots blossomed—almost imperceptible-- on her pale cheeks. He grinned at her when he saw this and did his best to keep from outright leering. "It's nice to meet you, Soi-chan."

It was incredibly cute that she could be that obvious in her affections towards her leader and still muster up the nerve to glare at him like she was going to kill him when he spoke to her. Or whenever he grinned and flirted with Yoruichi. Or breathed.

And to top it off, this was all made even _cuter _somehow, by the fact that Yoruichi didn't seem to notice Soi Fong's little crush at all.

Ah, love. What a humorous and lovely and torturous thing. Definitely not something someone like Urahara Kisuke would use for his own amusement. Ever. At all.

That would be cruel.

Urahara was too much of a tender heart for that sort of thing, after all. A romantic, in so many words.

In fact, her plight was so touching to his easily moved heart (the one full of tender love) that he couldn't just let the poor girl continue suffering like she was, and as a captain of the gotei-13, well, Kisuke took it as his responsibility to try and help out any subordinate (even those who weren't his own) in times of great need.

To the best of his ability.

He was very serious about his job, after all. And the heart thing. His heart was huge.

That decided, he perked up and winked at Soi Fong (the look she gave him in return would have been absolutely withering if she wasn't so ridiculously adorable), and his intentions thus communicated (completely insufficiently), he promptly draped an arm over Yoruichi's shoulders and grinned at her.

"Kisuke," she said, eyeing him, "what are you planning?"

"I love you dearly," he told her with all the seriousness he was capable of saying those types of things with (zero, absolutely zero), before promptly leaning forward and kissing her right on the mouth.

Just a peck mind, because she pulled away instantly and made a face at him. "You're an idiot."

He laughed. "A fool for love, my dear, only that!" he assured her, and turned back to look at Soi Fong, who's left eye was twitching quite dramatically.

Urahara smiled reassuringly at her, and the look she shot back at him might have felled lesser (saner) men in the blink of an eye (but he just thought it was really quite pretty).

He dropped back from Yoruichi's side then, and sidled up alongside Soi Fong like a secret agent doing an information pass.

Yoruichi, suspicious but used to Kisuke's antics, simply nestled down in one of the twelfth division captain's numerous piles of cushions (he kept them around for his favorite visitor) and proceeded to curl up for a nice nap in the sun.

Soi Fong wasn't quite sure what to do. "Urahara-taichou," she began, stiffly, and took a sidelong step away from him on instinct.

He promptly followed her. "Soi-chan," he echoed, and bent down a bit so they could talk face to face. He slid a quick peek in his periphery at Yoruichi, and finding her happily snoozing, moved to cup his hand around Soi Fong's ear. She quickly stepped away again of course, but that didn't stop him from speaking, as this was an important matter of love and it was his great responsibility as a very serious member of the gotei-13 to help those in need.

"If you kiss me right now," he said, "it would be like an indirect kiss with Yoruichi-san!"

At his words, she somehow paled in the face and blushed at those two little spots on her cheeks all at the same time.

He flashed a thumbs up at her at that, and thought that he was really a great ally to have in the game of love.

She promptly slapped him (on instinct).

Yoruichi scolded her later, for doing that (not because it hurt Kisuke but rather, because the sound had woken her abruptly from her nap), and contrite, the younger shinigami apologized to both Yoruichi-sama and the twelfth division captain.

He grinned at her and forgave her instantly of course, even offered her some more candy from the inside of his coat pocket (though not all of it, because Mayu-chan would be cross with him if he did).

Then, when Yoruichi wasn't looking, he bent down, cupped his hand over his mouth (she'd moved away before he could get anywhere _near_ her ear again) and said, "Okay, okay. Plan B. I can clone her for you, if you'd like."

He'd only ever offered this chance to have a clone to one other person before (though Mayu-chan was still of the opinion that two Uraharas running around seireitei would be an unquestionable harbinger of the end of the world), but Kisuke was definitely willing to do it if Soi-chan wanted him to, because he liked her and believed in the power of true love.

He was very serious about it. Just like he was about everything else.

And his heart was huge. Absolutely freakin' enormous.

Which made sense, as it was totally in his nature to be as helpful as possible.

When she slapped him again (on principle this time), he flashed her another thumbs up and figured that that was a definite "yes."

**END**


	462. For a Good Cause

**462.**

**Title:** For a Good Cause  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Suggested ByakuyaxIchigo, mentioned RenjixByakuya, Rukia  
**Word Count:** 940  
**Warning/s: **CRACK. OOC CRACK.  
**Summary:** Rukia engineers the perfect plan to pull the stick out of Byakuya's ass.  
**Dedication:** ignipotent- haha your prompt me with crack and I guess I don't fail you, at least in that respect.  
**A/N: **THIS MAKES NO SENSE. Ichigo screams a lot. The prompt was: "_nakedness and kidnapping."_

* * *

He woke up feeling like his head had been stuffed full of cotton, would have reached up to rub it too if he hadn't found himself oddly restrained. 

Eyes snapping open, Ichigo pulled at his arms and legs and found them all strapped down to the bed he was on, securely enough to sting just a little bit when he yanked too hard.

Tied to a bed. He was tied to a bed.

He paused. Blinked.

A single sheet lay over his body, but other than he didn't feel any…

He was tied to a bed. Naked. Naked and tied to a bed.

Part of him started to panic.

He wracked his brain trying to remember what could have possibly happened to land him in this situation, though the only thing in his memory was Rukia's smile as they'd sat down to lunch together and the…

"RUKIA."

He was going to kill her. Dead. He was going to kill her dead and she was already small, but he was going to make her small enough so that no one would even be able to see the itty bitty little pieces of her that were left when he was done with her. What the _hell _was she…

"Ichigo, you're awake." Her voice was sweet and nonchalant and _fake, fake, fake_. He snapped his head to the right and there she was, lounging in the chair at his bedside and it wasn't _his_ bed but…

"Where am I? What the hell is going on?"

She beamed. "I kidnapped you!" she told him matter-of-factly, and there was an unholy glow to her big, big eyes.

He gaped. "You _what_?_ Why_?"

"Niisama needs to get laid," she responded, and seemed unmoved by his near hysteria.

"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ME?"

She grinned. "Well, I thought that if Niisama is going to get laid he might as well top. You're the only one I could think of who was his type and who he could jump on top of like that."

Ichigo was too horrified to properly blush at whatever crazy ass thing she was talking about. "I… ARGH."

She twittered. "He hasn't had sex in _years_," she informed the orange-haired teen. "You're doing him a great service."

Ichigo stared at her and felt something like indignant rage come over him. "GET RENJI TO DO IT THEN."

"Renji's too tall for him to top," Rukia told him, like that should be very, very obvious or something. "He'd only bottom with him."

Ichigo's head hurt. "Maybe he'd like that," he offered, and clenched his teeth, tried to count backwards in prime numbers from one hundred before he _lost it completely._

She rolled her eyes. "There's nothing to be afraid of Ichigo, I'm sure Niisama is very gentle."

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT."

Pause.

Blink.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET ME HERE ANYWAY?!"

She grinned and held up a little bottle. "Hanatarou lent me some of his sleeping draughts!" she said brightly, and jiggled the little canister in her hand rather menacingly. "You know, I think the fourth division is the most dangerous one in seireitei. It's just that no one knows…"

"HEY OFF TOPIC."

She frowned at him. "No it's not; you're the one that brought this up in the first place."

He groaned. "Look," he started, and pulled at his bonds a little bit more, "this is very funny, hahaha Rukia. Let me the hell go."

"Niisama should be back soon," she informed him, coolly. "I've taken care of everything."

"HE DOESN'T LIKE ME. I'M TOTALLY NOT HIS TYPE."

Her eyes glinted again, and he felt his blood go cold. "Like I said, I've taken care of everything!" she told him, and reached out to pat him on the shoulder comfortingly—the bitch. "If he doesn't like you Renji's tied up in the next room."

Pause.

Blink.

"OH MY GOD."

"I gagged Renji though," she continued, and rested her chin in her palm as she watched Ichigo. The underlying threat was there, mixed in with all that smugness and self-satisfaction of a job well done. He was going to wipe that cocky grin off her face the moment he broke out of here. He was going to shake her. And choke her. A lot.

"Rukia I'm going to... mmppph."

She gagged him.

She _gagged him_. His mind screamed at him in rage and indignant disbelief and regular disbelief too.

He stared at her for a while, too stunned to move.

She winked. "Niisama will be very gentle, I'm sure."

And happy, she thought. Because he hadn't gotten laid in like, _forever_. Which clearly had to be the problem behind his attitude and that miserly nature of his.

She was fairly certain this was exactly what he'd need to improve his sour mood so she could get that raise in allowance she'd been wanting—it was taking _forever_ to buy those tickets to the Chappyland Happy-Happy Bunny Show on the meager pittance he allowed her and she just couldn't wait any longer, really.

Ichigo would understand afterwards—she'd even buy an extra ticket for him and they could watch the greatness together. He'd completely agree with her that it was worth it when he saw Mr. Chappy do the legendary Happy-Happy Bunny Show Dance. There wasn't a doubt in her mind.

Meanwhile, next door, Renji began to slowly wake. He blinked, tugged at his bonds and worked his gag in his mouth a bit and looked down at his naked, sheet covered body.

Automatically, he thought all signs pointed to having had a really good night.

Ichigo's mind continued to scream.

**END**


	463. Kinks

**463.**

**Title:** Kinks  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IkkakuxKira, mentions of ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count:** 742  
**Warning/s: **Stupidity and randomness, but no spoilers.  
**Summary:** A required overnight stay at the eleventh division barracks and…well, sex.  
**Dedication:** swinku- I MISS YOU. --;;  
**A/N: **So, just trying to warm up the rusty Bleach writing mindset to work on Shuu's birthday fic later—this is just kind of random weirdness for my own amusement I guess. See where I stand with the Bleach lately, as it seems I'm more motivated to write other things after a series of events in the last few months that kind of killed Bleach for me a little bit. XD I'm slowly trying to rebuild though!

* * *

Kira likes being talked dirty to. 

Which is a wondrously fortuitous thing in that Ikkaku has a notoriously filthy mouth.

"Fuck," Ikkaku likes to say, and sit back with a broad, predatory grin.

Kira may flush, my blush red around the cheeks and about the corners of his ears, may turn his gaze downward or sideways to avoid the other man's eyes, but in the end his fingers still curl around the hem of Ikkaku's sleeve or bunch the front of the third seat's gi, his throat still arches up into those sloppy but considerably enthusiastic kisses, his legs still wrap shyly around a familiar, sturdy waist.

"Hey," Ikkaku says around a genuinely happy smile, and rips the stitching on the blond's pants trying to get them off, "Fuck… you think we can… I mean, I bet you could bend just right and I could…haha you think you'd wanna try that, baby? Betcha they'd hear you scream all the way back at the seventh from here, whadya think?"

Dirty, filthy, bold, shameless—Kira flushes happily and bites down hard on a thick, corded neck in response, knowing that if he's the one who's turned on by talk then Ikkaku's the one who gets worked up by violence.

"_Shit_," Madarame hisses, and hums happily when he feels that cute little tongue of Izuru's start lapping up at the trickle of blood he'd drawn. "You little…god I'm gonna get you…"

"Get him quieter if you please, Ikkaku," Yumichika's voice calls through the wall suddenly, and both inhabitants of the third chair's room freeze momentarily.

"Er…Yumi, you uh… you got stay-over tonight too?" Ikkaku starts, and blinks in the direction of the wall separating their rooms in the division barracks.

"Yup! Shuuhei's here too!" the fifth seat calls back happily, and a low groan of embarrassment from somewhere in the pretty shinigami's room after that confirms the fact that he's not alone. "And just so you know, Shuu has quite the imagination and listening to you two isn't helping! I took care of him less than an hour ago, you know."

Ikkaku makes a face and thinks he never, ever wanted to know Hisagi's kink well…ever.

Kira falls off to the side laughing at that though, skin still flushed and clothes only half off of him—a brilliant contrast of white and pink and black all in a rumpled mess in the middle of Madarame's bed.

His cock curses and screams at him to hurry up and do something with that pretty little showcase, and eyeing the wall between them, Ikkaku takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself a little. "Hey," he murmurs quietly, and lies down slowly, covering the other man's smaller frame with his bulky one, "…er… how do you feel about gags?"

Kira blinks up at him in half surprise. "You mean…" his whisper trails off and he makes a motion across his mouth with his hand instead.

Ikkaku nods, though is fully willing to screw the idea if Kira isn't willing to…

But before he can finish the thought he's suddenly on his back looking up and the vice-captain's hand is firmly clamped over his mouth. _"I like it_," Izuru mouths to the third chair silently, and his eyes are practically sparkling down at Ikkaku with anticipation.

Ikkaku's too dumbfounded to say anything in response right then, but after Kira starts moving his hips a little he finds that he's really damn grateful for the fact that he can't make a sound.

And so Ikkaku learns that while Kira loves being talked dirty to, the man is not just about the words after all.

He likes _doing_ dirty to, too, and Zaraki always told Madarame that actions speak louder than words anyway.

He's—the little minx-- just like a natural born eleventh divisioner then, and Ikkaku thinks that he might just be even more in love than he'd thought he was before.

Come morning, when he's admiring the long series of red scratches up and down his back in the mirror before breakfast, Ikkaku supposes it's not always such a bad thing to have his enforced barracks stay-overs scheduled at the same time as Yumi's if this is gonna be the result.

Even if that means constantly facing the bastard's smart-ass, know-it-all smirks from across the table at commissary breakfast.

Ikkaku just ignores the bastard the best he can and hopes he wears the bruises on his wrists well.

**END**


	464. Squishy Happy

**464.**

**Title:** Squishy Happy  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuxYumi, Rangiku, Iba, Ikkaku, Renji, Akon, Mayuri, vague hints of Iba+Ran, but nothing out of the ordinary)  
**Word Count:** 871  
**Warning/s: **Crack and OOC? Haha whatever. XD;;  
**Summary:** Shuuhei's birthday celebrations make lots of people happy.   
**Dedication:** chibify and electify—keeping my love alive. XD  
**A/N: **This is so retarded but I really couldn't think of anything like, deep and moving for Shuuhei's birthday or anything. I like him as a dork, what can I say? Plus it's hard to write Bleach still, try as I might. rolls Especially when all I want to write is Air Gear. XD

* * *

No one saw Shuuhei on his birthday. 

There wasn't a word or a peep, not a single sighting of him. It was like he disappeared off the face of Soul Society for one day, and his friends and coworkers and various well wishers had to settle for belated congratulations, had to treat him to drinks and food and other gifts a day after the fact.

And they would have asked about it too, they surmised. They would have thwapped him (in a friendly manner) upside the head or shoved him a bit and demanded where the hell he'd been, what the hell he'd been doing that was more important than seeing his buddies on his number one most special day.

Except his goofy, extremely self-satisfied grin clued most of them in, a sort of, "Oh… _Oooooh_," kind of reaction that swept through the ranks when they saw him.

And for those who didn't get it even then, Ikkaku would cough uncomfortably and suggest that they hadn't seen Yumichika around all day that day either.

Everyone got it _then_, and in the end, they supposed they couldn't hold it against him for vanishing. Though none of them outside of Shuuhei, Yumichika, and (oddly enough) Akon from the twelfth division knew the specific details of what happened.

"Boobs," Shuuhei murmured mysteriously whenever he got asked about it after a round of drinks on the askers. "There were glorious, glorious boobs."

Matsumoto was incredulous. "He bought you a stripper? Were her boobs better than mine?" she demanded in an indignant (drunken) stupor.

Shuuhei, red-faced from his own drinks, just grinned. "A little smaller, I guess," he admitted. "But still…best boobs in the world."

Iba spit all over the counter. "Better'n Ran's?" he stared at her chest like he was trying to imagine such a feat (until she punched him). "I don't believe it," he declared, and asked for ice to nurse his swollen jaw.

Shuuhei smiled smarmily and drifted off into fantasy-replay land in his head. His hand made vague squeezing motions on the bar top as he did.

"I don' get it," Renji slurred, and pointed accusatorily at Ikkaku. "You said Yumichika was gone too."

Ikkaku blinked blearily. "He was. Don't mean I know what happened, fucker."

"Fucker yerself!" Renji shot back, and the two started a stupefied, half-hearted brawl that involved the flicking of many peanuts and pretzels at each other's foreheads.

Matsumoto in the meantime, examined her chest critically. "Smaller…but _better_? I don't believe it!" she shouted, and Iba agreed so heartily that he got another sock to the jaw for his troubles.

Shuuhei sighed dreamily and downed another mug of booze. "I love boobs."

"The hell is Yumichika anyway?" Ikkaku posed after he and Renji had run out of peanuts and pretzels. Then he forgot about it altogether and ordered more sake.

Meanwhile, at the twelfth division headquarters, Yumichika was, as specified by their contractual agreement, working off the large debt he owed Akon for building that wildly out of proportion gigai (really, D-cups at his size were completely unwieldy!) for him at the last minute.

"Who are you? I'll kill you! Leave the premises immediately!" Mayuri shouted, and tried to shake off the annoying growth that had suddenly latched onto his arm when he'd entered the building and wouldn't let go.

Yumichika simply sparkled back up at the twelfth division captain. "Ne, Mayu-tan… Akon-san has _really_ been wanting that two weeks paid vacation for a while now and I think you should give it to him…"

"ARGH LET GO."

Yumichika was even unfazed when the taller man's arm popped right off and he tried to make a run for it down the dark corridor. He simply beamed, skipped after the scientist, and jumped gleefully onto his back. "Ne, Mayu-tan, wouldn't it be nice of you to let Akon-san have that vacation after all the hard work he's done for you? He hasn't had a vacation in _years_ after all, and you're such a _nice man_ I'm sure it wouldn't even be a problem!"

"NO. And don't call me that."

"Mayu-chan? Ma-chan? Yuri-chin? Mari-pon? Mayuchi?"

"… if I give him a week will you shut up and let go?"

"A week and a half and I'll even give you back your arm." Yumichika smiled dazzlingly, and there was something frighteningly threatening about it.

Mayuri slumped. "Very well. A week and a half. Please get off of me now."

"Alright!"

Yumichika hopped off the masked captain cheerfully, and Mayuri breathed in long-suffering relief.

He headed back to his office.

Yumichika followed him.

"Um. What are you doing?"

"I'll stop following you for another half week off…"

"FINE. JUST GO."

"Mayuchi is so nice!" Yumi chirruped happily, the fifth seat bowing graciously to the superior officer before turning around and… prancing was probably the best word for it… out of the twelfth division.

After that, everyone was happy, just like Yumichika liked.

Akon enjoyed his first vacation in three years, Mayuri got his arm back, and most importantly of all, on certain very special occasions, Shuuhei got to bury his face in a perfect set of tits without having to worry about cheating to do it.

It was the best birthday ever.

**END**


	465. Prioritizing

**465.**

**Title:** Prioritizing  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **vaguely RenjixIchigo, mentions of RenjixByakuya, Ikkaku, Rukia   
**Word Count:** 887  
**Warning/s: **Um…around like, Ch 238 spoilers? I guess. Also, OOC. Because I really…had no other ideas. ;;  
**Summary:** Renji's rationing out his energy. Kind of.  
**Dedication:** requested by hinachan on my lj.  
**A/N: **I never in a billion years thought I would write this pairing ever. So um… I kind of pussyfooted around it. Haha… yeah. The request was: "_bath time smuttiness_" except this is without the smuttiness, because… I'm like that.

* * *

Hot water on fresh cuts stung, but so did the rest of his body just standing still, which he supposed was okay. Sign of his hard work all day, or something to that effect. 

Still felt tense though—lots of sitting around and waiting it seemed. _Strategizing. Preparing._ Personally, he wouldn't have minded being back under Urahara's store pounding away at Sado because that at least got his mind off of things.

Back in seireitei, training with Kuchiki-taichou as they made preparations for Aizen's upcoming attack was less a back and forth pounding and more the art of Renji getting his ass thoroughly handed back to him from a long (and elegant) distance. He didn't mind so much—taichou was a sight to watch fighting (and standing, and sitting, and eating, and _breathing_), so it wasn't a complete loss on his part.

Hell, when his face had hit the dirt he'd looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of skin up the wide opening of Byakuya's hakama and that was a job well done, if anything.

"Please focus, Renji," his captain had told him, and Renji might've been caught in that whole looking-up-the-pant-leg thing, 'cuz Byakuya sounded slightly different when he'd said that than how he did when he normally issued instructions to his vice-captain.

Nice legs, taichou had. Long and pale and smooth looking—kind of like Ichigo's but not as thick, he guessed. Daintier, more refined maybe. Rich people were like that.

Yeah, and he'd noticed Ichigo's legs too—though when he thought about it those weren't the first things he'd noticed, technically. Stupid kid liked to walk around half naked most of the time, after all. Renji hoped he'd looked that well-defined when _he_ was fifteen, good goddamn.

He frowned to himself at that and told himself he'd better concentrate on washing all the dirt off instead of thinking about nice looking legs or nice looking torsos or nice looking _anythings_, because otherwise someone (with his luck and all) would walk into the sixth division locker room and find the vice-captain dirty, bloody, and in the middle of beating one out with shampoo in his hair and soap in his eyes, or something.

Taichou would be scandalized if he found out.

So Renji was good-- stopped thinking about anything remotely sexy and started to rinse the lather out of his hair.

Ikkaku always told him he needed to get laid or something—said that he could practically smell the horny comin' off of the redhead. Yumichika sometimes added that it smelled rather unpleasant.

"And you know Rukia ain't gonna do it—she'd laugh at ya and give ya her brother's number or Ichigo's anyway. Yeah, that's right—everyone knows, ya transparent fuck."

Ikkaku had a way with words.

But he wasn't wrong. Renji really, really needed to get laid.

But he wasn't thinking about that now. He was getting dirt out of his hair (long hair plus training plus getting his ass kicked didn't make it easy to clean). After that he was getting dirt out from under his fingernails. And then he was toweling off and going to get something to eat. He'd meditate after that or something—talk to Zabimaru. Because that's what they were supposed to be doing-- prepping for this stupid war.

Individual horniness sacrificed for the greater good or something. Taichou would be so damned proud if he knew what Renji was suffering for the sake of seireitei. Or he'd be horrified, either way.

Still. Still, Abarai was saving his energy for training and not—definitely _not_—expending it thinking about either taichou or Ichigo's legs and other shit like that. Definitely.

He took a deep, shaky breath and finished washing his hair, scraping the dirt out from under his nails. Smelled like green tea soap instead when he finished, and stepped out of the shower with a towel around his waist. Got dressed and dried his hair and headed out towards the commissary, only to realize that he'd left his goddamned bandana in the locker room halfway there. A bitch to eat with hair like his not tied up, after all.

He frowned, turned around, and headed back, feeling vaguely annoyed with himself. Definitely needed to get laid right after the whole doomsday fight with Aizen and company was over—all this saving his energy for battle was making him addlebrained or something.

You could imagine his surprise when he stepped back into the locker room, only to hear someone who sounded _suspiciously_ like Kuchiki-taichou beating one out amidst the running water.

Renji blinked.

Byakuya came, and only after five (Renji counted) deep pants did he notice his adjutant standing in the doorway, kind of…staring.

Silence.

And then… "Um… Renji…"

Renji cleared his throat. Well _shit_. The hell had he been doing all this time?

"Uh. Hey there, taichou," he started, and might have been staring still, "That uh…that help you focus or something?"

Pause. And then a weary sounding. "Yes. Sometimes."

Renji grinned, because those words sounded like someone telling him happy birthday. "What, really?"

Byakuya stared at him.

"Sweet," the redhead muttered to himself without waiting for an answer, and was already stripping out of his clothes again. "I fuckin' _need_ this."

"…please don't be vulgar, Renji."

"Sorry, sir."

He turned the water on.

**END**


	466. Payback

**466.**

**Title:** Payback   
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Aizen+Ichigo (sort of), Grimmjow, Il Forte, Ulquiorra, Luppi, with mentions of AizenxGrimmjow and hints of GrimmjowxForte  
**Word Count:** 719  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc and early parts of the Arrankar arc.  
**Summary:** The Arrankar speculate on Aizen's obsessions.  
**Dedication:** requested by ignipotent on my lj. Also, for Reki, because I'm only basing my Luppi on hers.   
**A/N: **Haha this doesn't really fulfill the request I guess, but it was the only thing that came to mind. Also, it is retarded, but then again, I've never been particularly good at the Arrankar. Guess they just don't do it for me. XD;;

* * *

Forte laughed and draped himself over Grimmjow teasingly, ignored the other Arrankar's grunt of general irritation. "He's at it again," Forte murmured against Grimmjow's ear, and dodged the halfhearted swipe his comrade took at him upon hearing the news.

"Fuck," Grimmjow muttered, and ran a hand through his hair.

"Aaah, maybe he's just asking the mirror-mirror on the wall who's the fairest of them all?" Luppi offered, though his smirk told everyone present that it wasn't meant to comfort Grimmjow. "But probably not…"

Ulquiorra in the meantime, glared disdainfully at the trio, skulking quietly to himself in the corner. "Don't speak of Aizen-sama that way," he murmured, and the threat was clearly there despite the flatness of his voice.

Grimmjow sneered. "What, don't talk about him like he's a creepy stalker bastard who gets a boner every time he watches that weakling punk in the human world?"

"It's research. Observation. Planning. Simpletons like you wouldn't know about those sorts of things," Ulquiorra murmured, and his eyes narrowed just the slightest bit.

"Research, hmmm?" Luppi and Forte echoed together, and shared a look.

"You know, I hear from Gin-sama," Luppi began, and sparkled at Forte, "that after Aizen-sama watches Ichi-chi for a while he's very…very… _horny_."

"Oh I _know_ that," Forte replied, and smirked over in Ulquiorra's direction though his speech was (for the most part) directed at Luppi, "because sometimes… _sometimes_, he calls Grimmy-baby to his room afterwards…"

"Mmm, as close as you'll get here I suppose," Luppi agreed.

"It seems that Aizen-sama likes it wild. I know _I _do," Forte added, and Grimmjow rolled his eyes at them both.

But he supposed he didn't mind the teasing if it got Ulquiorra this worked up, the little bastard with his hand hovering over his sword as the two fruitcakes laughed together and imagined how it must feel to fuck Aizen-sama, wondered if their leader was ever crazy with lust for that orange-haired hothead after watching him so intently for hours upon hours like he liked to do every so often.

"Guess in the end, he's just a pervert after all," Grimmjow scoffed, and counted every twitch of Ulquiorra's brow as a small victory. He was itching for a fight maybe, wanted to wipe the holier-than-thou expression off the little bastard's face, grind it down into nothing with his fists.

Ulquiorra sneered. "And you are nothing better than his fuck toy," he sniffed back, before turning around. "Juvenile."

Grimmjow grunted, watched the little prick retreat like that, with a snitty little huff and his head held high. "Tch. No fun at all."

"Virgin!" Luppi and Forte announced in tandem, and Forte laughed and rested his chin on Grimmjow's shoulder. "Aizen-sama doesn't fuck him, even though he's the favorite. You should be… very honored."

Grimmjow made a face, still glaring at Ulquiorra's retreating back. "Like hell. Why doesn't he just go off'n fuck his little lap dog instead then? Make everyone happier that way."

Luppi giggled. "Maa, of course Aizen-sama doesn't want to touch him! I mean, could you imagine fucking _that_?" he asked, and shared a look with Forte. "He's such a tight-ass you'd stick your cock in and it'd come out a diamond!"

Grimmjow made a face at the rather shameless description. "I need to stop hanging out with you two. Either that or make a fuckin' fruit salad."

Forte snickered and nipped at his ear. "Careful what you wish for, darling… I think… I _think_ I hear Gin-sama coming to fetch you now." Pause. Smirk. "I guess that means Aizen-sama's done with today's viewing and it's time to part ways, ne?"

Grimmjow glared at him. "I should kill you."

Luppi grinned and examined his immaculately manicured nails. "If I were you, I'd spend the time you've got lubing up instead, sweet-cheeks… when Illy and I passed I think Aizen-sama was watching Kurosaki in the shower."

Grimmjow paled a bit. "Fuck."

Forte and Luppi beamed. "Soon!"

Grimmjow scowled at the reminder, gritted his teeth and squared his jaw and maybe clenched his fists a bit.

And as Gin fluttered around the corner calling his name, Grimmjow promised himself that first chance he got, he really was gonna slip out of here and kill that orange-headed little bastard. Choke the life right out of him.

Call it payback.

**END**


	467. Precipice

**467.**

**Title:** Precipice  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Komamura, Shuuhei, barely-there ShuuxYumi  
**Word Count: **689  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Soul Society arc.   
**Summary:** Follow up to #105 (1000 Demons)- Komamura contemplates old legends and Shuuhei discovers something new.  
**Dedication:** sophiap and tsukishine- they bolster my Shuumi love whenever I feel like it's waning.  
**A/N: **Yeah, I'm out of practice. ;; Probably 'cuz I haven't been reading much Bleach fic or the manga or watching the anime lately… Air Gear and Kyou Kara Maou have been devouring me I guess. But still, but still, I have a spark of love for the characters (these in particular), and the two dedicatees never fail to remind me of it. XD;;

* * *

Komamura looked at the marker at his feet there at the top of the hill, gazed at it in silence for a very long time. "Tousen told me of a legend once," he began slowly, and caught Hisagi's attention by his low, thoughtful tone. "He said that it was believed—a long time ago-- that if you kill a thousand demons, you eventually become one."

Shuuhei looked at the big captain then, noted the tiredness with which he said it, the lingering sadness. "Do you think it's true?" the vice-captain asked in response, and wondered if that was what Tousen-taichou was now, or at least, what he believed himself to be.

"I don't know," Komamura answered, and didn't look away from the grave marker. "I thought it was absurd when he told me. But…"

"But that was a long time ago," Shuuhei finished for him, tentatively.

"A long time ago," Komamura agreed, and almost sounded wry when he added, "a thousand demons ago. For the both of us, perhaps."

Shuuhei frowned at the fox captain's tone, and realized after a moment, that he no longer felt half as sad as Komamura-taichou sounded. Strange, inexplicable. "Even if the legend's true," he began, and wasn't sure what he was doing when he imagined Zaraki's face, Ikkaku's face, Yumichika's, "even if we're all demons… if everyone thinks we're demons… it doesn't really matter, right?"

Komamura paused at that, actually turned his head from the graves marker to face the vice-captain. "Is that so?"

"I mean," Shuuhei continued, and swallowed, "even if the whole world called me a demon… as long as the people who mattered to me were at my side… I don't think I'd care," he finished, and almost couldn't believe his own words. "At the end of the day, I think… I think that, as long as I fought for what I believed in and had the people I cared about there with me… it wouldn't matter what I was."

Komamura blinked for a moment, turned that unfiltered optimism around in his head.

Shuuhei squirmed a bit under the scrutiny, and really, wasn't quite sure where that had come (though at the same time he was sure they were someone else's words, someone else's life infused somehow, into his own all of a sudden).

And then, after a long span of silence between them, Komamura smiled. "Iba tells me you've fallen in love recently."

Shuuhei blinked, and wasn't sure what that had to do with anything. "Well…yessir, I suppose I have."

The large captain turned back to the grave marker then, voice sounding wistful. "Good for you, Hisagi."

"Um…thank you sir."

They spent the rest of the afternoon in silence like that—just thinking—and when it was time to go, when the sun was setting, Shuuhei found himself leaving Komamura there at the top of the hill and returning to the eleventh division headquarters instead of to his own barracks, found himself knocking on Yumichika's door despite having lots of paperwork waiting back for him at the ninth division that he knew he ought to take care of tonight.

When Yumichika answered, he wanted to ask the fifth seat, "What did you _do_ to me?" but ended up saying, "Do you want to take a walk?" instead.

Yumichika smiled at him—brilliantly—and simply said "yes."

And for a minute, looking at the other man looking back at him in the orange glow of twilight, Shuuhei suddenly felt like all his earlier questions had been answered anyway.

He took the pretty shinigami's hand then, and decided that as long as Yumichika always smiled at him like that—lovely, wicked, playful, knowing, wry, sly, teasing, _beautiful_—then he could look forward to waking up and doing his job and living his life moment by moment, day in and day out, whether each one brought him closer to one thousand… or ten thousand, or beyond.

Because demon or no, it didn't make a difference to him any more-- just as long as he had the things that mattered most.

As they walked, Shuuhei thought that Yumichika looked amazing in the moonlight.

**END**


	468. Gender Wars

**468.**

**Title:** Gender Wars  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KenseixLisa, Love  
**Word Count:** 976  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the Arrankar arc as far as characters go, I guess. --;;  
**Summary:** Lisa and Kensei square off.  
**Dedication:** tsukishine, as the only Lisa I've ever read (and I needed the help). Also, for everyone who watches the fic journal, because I never thought it'd get past 250. Ever. Love to you all and thanks for all the comments!   
**A/N: ** I think it was all the Korean drama watching with my family earlier tonight but I just wanted to write something very…boys vs. girls I guess. And these two somehow, came to mind. Weird, I know.

* * *

Kensei frowned and turned the magazine around in his hands with a look of intense concentration, examining the contents from every angle. "I don't get it," he declared after a moment, and carelessly tossed the porn to the side. "She's whacked." 

"Don't need to look at her gay porn collection to verify it, brother," Love drawled from the couch puffing little rings of smoke from his big cigar as he did.

"Why do we let her hang out with us again?" the silver-haired Vizord questioned, and kicked absently at the enormous box of contraband the two of them had lifted from her room (purely out of curiosity of course) while she was off at school today.

Love grinned. "'Cuz sometimes she don't wear panties."

Kensei grinned back. "Oh yeah." Pause. "But still. She's seriously whacked."

"Mmm hmmm."

"She's seriously _pissed_," a dangerously low voice interrupted from the doorway, and both men felt the blood in their veins run cold as they realized who it was.

Love swallowed. "Um. Hey, Lisa. Back early?"

Glaring, the long-haired Vizord crossed her arms and looked menacingly at them both. "Is that my porn box?"

Kensei squared his shoulders. Nothing to be afraid of. Just a whacked out little girl who seemed to get off on two guys doing the nasty. "Yeah, it's your porn box. One of 'em, anyway."

Her eyes narrowed. "You _touched_ my porn?"

Kensei squared his shoulders even more. Wasn't sure how you could square them _more _after you already squared them once, but he was pretty certain he did. He just felt like they were more square now, or something. Yeah. "Yeah, we touched your porn. 'Cuz we wanted to know what the hell you were lookin' at that was so damned captivatin'."

A dangerous smile played across the corners of her lips then, and she took a step into the room. Love hastily ground out his cigar butt. "Did you find anything…_interesting_?" she asked, practically purring. Bad sign.

"I'm gonna go… um… help Shinji with dinner. Yes. I'm gonna cook, and other things that men should learn to do and uh, not be chauvinistic about," Love announced, and booked it from the room.

Kensei watched the other man go with "traitor" written all over his face, but didn't say anything because it wasn't like he needed backup to deal with one little school girl or nothing. Definitely not. "All we found was weird shit that's kind of gross, you ask me," Kensei responded after a moment, and turned to face her completely, crossing his arms in that special way that always made his biceps look huge. "I think you've got a problem, Lisa."

Lisa, unfazed, took another step in, removed her glasses and hung them from the collar of her seifuku.

He didn't take a step back at that, even though he kind of wanted to. Glared back at her instead. "There's nothin' right about two guys fuckin' one another," he declared, and stood taller so he could look down his nose at her. "Though…" he added, when she took another menacing step, "I guess it would be better than some things. Like uh… like… I'd rather fuck Shinji than you!"

She made a fist at that. "That so?"

"That is. So." He stood even taller (on his toes) and looked even more menacing and square. With squared shoulders and squared jaw and everything. "So yeah. That's what I think. What're you gonna do about it, little girl?"

She smirked then, and taking another step forward, pushed him right in the middle of the chest with the palm of her hand. Easy to unbalance him when he was on his toes like that already, and he tripped conveniently over the porn box behind him, landed right onto the couch with a surprised "oof" and a comically indignant look on his face. "I'm gonna make your knees buckle, is what I'm gonna do, Kensei," she purred, and stood triumphantly over him. She lifted a leg and placed a foot on his shoulder, leaned her weight into it and pushed him further down into the couch cushions.

He swallowed. "The hell you are, wench."

She smirked. "I'm gonna ride you so hard you'll be ruined for women. After I'm done with you all you're gonna have to look forward to for the rest of your life is fucking other guys because there isn't gonna be a girl on earth who will measure up after you've had me."

Kensei swallowed, tensed the muscles in his arms and shoulders. He wasn't one to back down from a challenge, especially one from some weirdo porn-reading, gay man loving, no-panty wearing high school freak show. "Fuck that, you ain't that good! Bring it!"

She straddled him on the couch, and the look in her eyes didn't scare him at all. Not a bit. "Then here we go," she murmured, and kissed him hard.

Later, when the both of them were sprawled out on the couch sweating and panting, they still managed to play it cool. Like winners.

Even if Lisa's braid was badly askew and Kensei's wife-beater was noticeably ripped.

Lisa, fumbling to put her glasses back on, looked triumphantly at Kensei a moment or two later, despite the flushed cheeks and the crooked skirt. "I win!" she declared, between pants.

Kensei snorted when he found the breath to. "Like hell you did."

She glared. "You_ cried_ when you came!"

He glared back. "You _sucked_ my cock!"

Pause.

Silence.

They sighed. "Draw."

She sniffed. "Don't ever take my porn again."

He scoffed. "Tch. Don't worry."

Shinji called everyone for dinner then, and standing, Kensei wiped his eyes while Lisa wiped her mouth.

Around the table, they ate in relative silence, and no one asked about Kensei's shirt.

Or the stain on Lisa's uniform.

They all figured it was for the best.

**END**


	469. Anything You Want

**469.**

**Title:** Anything You Want  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GinxUlquiorra, AizenxGin  
**Word Count:** 893  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the Arrankar arc. Also, blood, gore, sex, and non-con. Because it's the 'kar. It just has to happen like that, I guess. XD  
**Summary:** Gin's birthday present is a study in the systematic destruction of Ulquiorra's faith.  
**Dedication:** Para- yours and Gin's birthdays are surprisingly close together. XD;; Happy belated to both of you! I suck for being late.  
**A/N: **Yes I realize I still owe lots and lots of request fic, but this is for a birthday. Two, actually. So it gets precedence, okay? Okay.

* * *

While Aizen petted his hair and stroked his cheek he also asked, "What do you want for your birthday, Gin?" and Ichimaru wasn't sentimental enough about birthdays (especially his own) not to first and foremost, take the question as an opportunity.

To use it to his advantage.

"Maa, that depends on what you'd be willing to give me, wouldn't it?" he'd murmured in return, and arched his back as he did, bending back as graceful as a calla lily while Aizen gently supported his hips.

The other man smiled then, like he knew Gin was fishing for something that wasn't just a birthday present, and squeezed the hands on his subordinate's hips just hard enough to bruise. "Anything you want," he conceded, because one of the things he loved most about this silver-haired fox was his ability to try and bring pain on everyone given the chance, even those closest to him.

Especially those closest to him.

And Gin knew this too, grinned back at his former captain and lifted himself up with a small laugh, before pushing back down with a hum and a slick, sliding noise. "Can I play with your pretty one, then?" he asked, and put all his cards on the table as he squeezed inner muscles around Aizen in a teasing manner. "Would you let me have him all to myself for just one day?"

Aizen thought of Ulquiorra's sad, obedient face at that, shuddered both from the other man's ministrations and his own thoughts at how lovely that image was in his mind's eye. "You'd have to promise to play nice," he said sternly, and nosed Gin's cheek.

"As nice as I know how," Gin promised solemn as he wrapped two arms around Aizen and held him close when his leader came.

"Happy birthday," the older man breathed after a moment, and smiled tenderly at his former vice-captain.

"Thank you," Gin told him, and really did look forward to the day.

He knew more than anyone else that your birthday was the day when you were supposed to get everything you possibly wanted in the world, after all.

And as predicted, the day did not fail him.

Ulquiorra's face when Aizen ordered him to go with Ichimaru made the silver-haired shinigami almost shiver in delight, the surprised, frightened, _sad_ look the young Arrankar had valiantly tried to hide as he'd murmured, "Yes, Aizen-sama," and did as he was told.

It was more than Gin could have asked for.

And when he made the little princess strip, the shame and impotent rage that blossomed on those pretty features was absolutely delicious as shoes, pants, sword, shirt, and unfailing pride all systematically came off. Slowly, one piece of Ulquiorra falling to the floor at a time in a brilliant shameful waterfall, leaving white, pristine skin behind, the stare of cold, hateful eyes.

"Of course you would be unmarked, ne?" Gin marveled as he took in the sight of the naked Arrankar, and before he could stop himself, stepped forward to push his fingers into Ulquiorra's skin, all the way in until he couldn't see them anymore, until dark red blood trickled out and trailed down snow-white skin like a small river. "Maaa, I just couldn't resist," he explained, and delighted in how Aizen's favorite bit his bottom lip to keep from gasping aloud.

Valiant effort, and so very, very cute.

Gin withdrew his fingers and licked some of the blood off of them, watched Ulquiorra glare daggers at him all the while still playing Aizen's obedient little puppy dog.

But now, perhaps, with just a tiny, tiny seed of doubt.

Delicious.

It would be an exercise in Sousuke's manipulative ability to win little Ulquiorra back completely once Gin was through with him, but after seeing Aizen's work with dear little Momo-chan Gin didn't think it would be that difficult for his former captain to bring Ulquiorra back in the fold after some sweet smiles, some gentle pats on the head and kind words. Aizen was so very good at that after all.

Fingers sticky with blood and spit Gin strode forward and grasped Ulquiorra hard around the throat with his clean hand then, hefted the little one off the ground and slammed him into the nearest wall, hard enough to crack several ribs, forcing the air from the Arrankar's lungs in a pain-filled gasp. "It's my birthday you know," Gin stated off-handedly, and dipped his index finger back into the wound he'd opened up earlier, drawing blood out like ink and tracing little red hearts to life on Ulquiorra's pale, heaving chest. "It's my birthday and Aizen-taichou has given me a wonderful, wonderful present."

"Pig," Ulquiorra snarled hoarsely and Gin squeezed his throat just a little bit tighter.

"Maa, be nice, ne? It's my birthday," Gin repeated, and without breaking eye contact, reached down to remove his pants. "And Aizen-taichou's given me a wonderful, wonderful present."

To his credit, Ulquiorra didn't scream—not once—but that hadn't been one of the more pressing items on Gin's list of things to receive today, so the birthday boy simply smiled around the blood in his mouth and relished the things he _did_ receive that he'd wanted.

Those were the only ones that really mattered.

And really, Ulquiorra's eyes full of doubt was the best gift he ever could have asked for.

**END**


	470. One September Night

**470.**

**Title:** One September Night  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Yumichika  
**Word Count:** 996  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for their shared backstory, but nothing concrete.   
**Summary:** Ikkaku and Yumichika through the ages.   
**Dedication:** idiosyn—happy birthday! Hope you don't mind sharing with Yumi.  
**A/N: **Haha this thus far, has been the easiest of the September birthday fics I've had to write. I wonder why that is. XD

* * *

He sat in the fifty-third (west) district of Rukongai, in some shady bar where the waitress let him get a peek under her flimsy top while she asked him if he wanted anything other than tea for the umpteenth time. He'd looked at her tits of course (they were right there after all), but declined the drink for now—told her he was waiting for someone and he'd start drinking then. She seemed disappointed at the news, but told him she got off round about midnight if he was still interested afterwards anyway.

Ikkaku wasn't particularly—more interested in getting some booze in his system at the moment, but for now he was waiting because it was the "polite" thing to do or some such shit. Had to wait for the guest of honor.

Tradition, after all, and while this wasn't exactly the same, it was as far out as either of them could get for just one night. This place was definitely cleaner than the first one—a veritable five star establishment in comparison to the dingy hole from Ikkaku's memories. Least here he could see partway through the drinking glasses.

He had a hot date tonight, you see. Made him cringe whenever the word came up, but it was only a once-a-year kind of thing, and he supposed he could deal with that since it felt important, somehow. How important it was he wasn't sure exactly, but he did know that regardless, this particular early autumn night was always reserved for a disreputable bar on the seedy side of some Rukongai slum, for drinks and conversation and a good, bloody fight-- laughing eyes and flashing fists and the memory of a century gone since the first time happened, when he wandered inadvertently into a place just like this in some district just like this and unwittingly sat down next to a guy who looked just like a girl-- only to have his life changed forever.

And so he waited for a good hour—drinking lukewarm tea— until delicate footsteps caught his ear, until the rest of the tavern's seedy clientele suddenly went quiet.

Something was here that didn't belong.

He didn't bother turning, motioned to the waitress to bring that whiskey he'd been wanting all night while the chair across from his slid out, filled with a familiar little form wearing a familiar little smile and the very same flowery-ass little outfit—faded a bit now but still distinguished despite everything—from that very first time they'd ever laid eyes on one another.

"Waiting long?"

"Late, ya fruity fuck."

Yumichika chuckled at that, unapologetically. "It's my birthday," he declared.

"I coulda just bought you somethin' shiny, fucker. Make me go through all this trouble year after year."

"You never complain in the morning."

White teeth flashed in a knowing smile then, and the fruity bastard knew him better than he thought—but then again, close near a hundred years was time enough for that sort of repertoire to develop whether he wanted it or not, he supposed. He smirked back, and it was more of a sneer than anything else. The waitress brought the drinks but didn't flash him this time—probably thought the competition was too classy.

She'd be right on that account, Ikkaku admitted to himself, and watched his best friend down hard liquor like it was thousand dollar wine. Smooth as silk.

"Can't believe you still got that outfit," Ikkaku said after a moment, and as the alcohol warmed him, so did the memories. "You got nicer ones now."

"It's good to remember where we came from," Yumichika replied, and damn it all if every eye in the room wasn't still fixed on him. A hundred years couldn't ever change the things that were just meant to be, it seemed.

Yumichika finished his drink and after a few minutes, turned eyes sparkling with anticipation up at his friend. "Ready?"

"Tch. Whenever you are."

"It's good to remember where we came from," Yumichika reiterated, and everyone was still looking at him when he stood and sauntered over to the nearest occupied table—smiled real big and exchanged some words Ikkaku couldn't make out but didn't need to anyway.

The first punch thrown wasn't Yumichika's, but the fifteen after that were, and when Ikkaku stood and cracked his knuckles, he smiled and enjoyed the rush of adrenaline pumping in his veins, the familiarity and the anticipation and the knowledge that _yeah_ this is who they'd always be, no matter where they went, no matter what they accomplished—how rich or poor they got, how they killed or died.

They whooped and laughed and took out twenty guys apiece that night, and afterwards, when they were drunk and lying on their backs in the rubble laughing breathlessly together, Ikkaku paid the tab and the damages because he could now, and helped his friend to his feet.

"Happy birthday," he said, and patted Yumichika's slim shoulders free of dust. "Now let's go… got work in the morning. Don't mess up your outfit more'n you have."

"Thank you," Yumichika responded brightly, and the two of them supported each other the whole long walk back to headquarters.

"Next year let's go to the forty-second," Yumichika murmured after some distance, and still sparkled despite his obvious drunkenness. "The forty-second was nice."

Ikkaku snorted. "Fuck, we live another year, we'll go wherever you want."

"Silly, of course we'll make it."

"That a fact?"

Yumichika's smile was luminous. "It's what we do."

The bald shinigami grunted. "Huh."

"It's who we are."

"You're drunk," Ikkaku told him.

They walked on in comfortable silence after that, and despite himself, Ikkaku was already supposing that he ought to write down "42" on a piece of paper somewhere before he passed out for the night, otherwise he'd plum forget come morning, and Yumichika _never_ forgot (or stopped holding a grudge) about anything. Especially the things Ikkaku forgot.

It was who they were, after all.

**END**


	471. The Start of Something New

**471.**

**Title:** The Start of Something New  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika, Ikkaku  
**Word Count:** 894  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Sequel to #471 (One September Night)- Shuuhei's a hundred years behind.  
**Dedication:** ainbthen- Once again, thank you for the paid account time!  
**A/N: **Yes, Yumi gets two. Because he needed one for his BFF for life and now he needs one from his big schmoopy-bear cuddle pants. Leave me alone.

* * *

They stumbled in well past two in the morning, and by the level of noise they were making banging around in the living room Shuuhei could only imagine that they were both just a little bit drunk—Ikkaku probably more so than Yumi, if only because he didn't carry his liquor as well as the fifth seat.

It was fine though—not like he'd been sleeping or anything.

Not that he'd been waiting up either, but you know, he just hadn't felt like sleeping. Even if he did have work come sunup and probably needed to be conscious to lead the warm up drills.

Just… hadn't felt like sleeping, was all. Nothing else. Definitely not vague jealousy.

He stood from where he was laying down staring up at the ceiling and got up out of bed, padded over to the door and pulled it open just in time to hear Ikkaku's whisper-scream of "shut the fuck up, dumbass, Hisagi's sleepin'!!"

If he'd been sleeping that definitely would've woken him.

"I'm awake," Shuuhei announced, and cleared his throat as he made his presence known. With a flip of his wrist he had a light on and for a moment Ikkaku and Yumichika stood there in the middle of the living room blinking owlishly and still holding each other up. Shuuhei crossed his arms and noticed the pink flush of his lover's skin, thin sheen of sweat, bits of dust in his hair. "Have a good night?" he asked, and Yumichika beamed back at him.

"Baby!" he greeted, and moved over so fluidly he _had_ to be drunk. "You're awake."

Shuuhei smiled a bit at that, accepted the armful of Yumichika that he got when the fluid motions stopped and a head thunked against his chest. "I'm awake," he acknowledged, and clasped his hands together at the small of the pretty shinigami's back.

"And that's my fuckin' cue," Ikkaku declared, wrinkling his nose.

"What's your cue?" Yumi asked, and turned to blink at his friend.

"Cuddle voice. I can't fuckin' stand cuddle voice. I'm out. Happy birthday."

"Thanks!" Yumichika told him, and waved as Ikkaku bumbled out the front door.

Shuuhei waited until the door was closed before he spoke again, absently maneuvering Yumichika back towards the bed so his lover could lay down. "Finished your ritual?"

"Mission complete," the smaller death god told him, and let himself be waddled backwards into the bedroom. "We had a lovely evening."

"Wonderful," Shuuhei responded, not insincerely. "You think you're far enough removed from all the excitement to get some sleep?"

Yumichika pouted. "It's my birthday."

"Not anymore," the vice-captain said. "It's already the twentieth."

Yumi sniffed at that, imperiously. "It's still my birthday until I have sex," he declared, like that ought to have been obvious to Shuuhei. "My will is law today, after all."

Shuuhei chuckled a bit at that, bit back the "your will was law _yesterday_," on the tip of his tongue, mostly because he thought Yumichika was very cute drunk. The backs of his knees hit the edge of the mattress then anyway, and he let himself fold so he was sitting, pulling Yumi more comfortably into his lap as he did. "Forgive me for being presumptuous, but I don't think you're up for any sex right now, your highness," he stated wryly, and buried his nose in his lover's hair.

Yumi sighed contentedly and leaned more heavily into Shuuhei's solid frame. "You're probably right."

"And work in five hours."

"Mmmph."

Shuuhei smiled and kissed Yumi's temple. "Happy birthday."

Yumichika was already asleep by then, but it had to be said regardless. Smiling ruefully to himself Shuuhei shifted the fifth seat gently in his arms and laid him down on the bed, removed his clothes and tucked him in and decided that if his highness had his way, they could just do it tomorrow morning and it would still count as birthday sex anyway.

As far as he saw it, they could make a ritual of it, or something. An addendum to go with a century past of nights like this out with Ikkaku doing god knew what to remind themselves of where they came from. Shuuhei felt stunningly new in the face of something so established in Yumichika's life—a hundred years behind.

This was only year one for them and he had a feeling that he knew very little of anything, that he'd only thus far scratched the tip of the iceberg that was Yumichika.

For the moment.

But with the way things were going between the two of them he didn't see the big centennial as too far off a goal to plan for at all.

Thought firmly in mind, the vice-captain lay down next to his lover then, kissed Yumichika's forehead and watched the birthday boy sleep for a little while longer before settling down and closing his eyes himself-- the first time all night.

As he drifted off to sleep he told himself that traditions all had to start somewhere.

Yumichika and Ikkaku's began a century earlier.

For Shuuhei, this looked like as good a place as any to begin theirs. Begin the next hundred (two hundred, five hundred, thousand, hundred thousand) years of his life.

Besides… he rather liked the sound of birthday sex ad infinitum.

If anything, it wasn't something a guy like him could complain about.

**END**


	472. Good Men

**472.**

**Title:** Good Men  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ShuuheixYumichika, Iba  
**Word Count:** 997  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Shuuhei always was a good man.  
**Dedication:** Since I didn't have any idea what to write, I let myself be inspired by the ever inspiring sophiap—thanks for the ideas, lovely! Also for ainbthen- glad you like the pairing!  
**A/N: **Requested on my other journal. No prompt though, so hope this is okay.

* * *

Shuuhei had never considered himself a great man. Titles like that were reserved for men like Yamamoto-soutaichou and Tousen-taichou and etc., etc.-- men who had amazing abilities and a strong sense of honor and justice and _goodness_. Great men were men who changed the world with their own hands—strove to make it better.

Shuuhei never considered himself a great man because he wasn't exceptional like that, because he did as he was told and behaved as he was expected and was certain that the men who were better than him would always be there to lead. Great men did that—good men followed.

Shuuhei considered himself a good man. He followed his orders, was never late, trained hard and worked hard and at the end of the day could be proud of the things he accomplished because they had been for someone great, someone who had more ability, more talent, more honor, more justice than him.

"What if their justice is different from your justice?" Iba asked drunkenly one night, when they were both a bit drunk and discussing anything that came to their minds. "You still follow it?"

"The nobler justice will always be the one that wins out in the end," Shuuhei assured him, because that's what Tousen told him, and Tousen was a great man. "Because it's strong. That's what you follow."

Iba blinked blearily, and Shuuhei reminded himself that the man had been rescued from the eleventh division by Komamura only recently. "But like…what if someone's justice is to um…kill babies, or something? And they're strong, and they win? Does that mean they're right and it's right to kill babies?"

Shuuhei made a face. "Of course that's not right. It's not about strength—it's about goodness," Shuuhei assured him, though it was hard to try and explain something like that. Tousen was much better at it, which was why Shuuhei was only the vice-captain and not captain. "They wouldn't win if that were their justice."

Iba scowled, apparently dissatisfied with the explanation. "Well a good guy can be weak," Iba told him. "And then he gets is ass kicked, and the way you're sayin' it, that would mean he's wrong, 'cuz he ain't some great man or something. Even if what he believes in is good. Or right, or whatever's the best word."

Shuuhei patted his friend patiently. "That's why you'n I aren't great men," he told the former eleventh divisioner. "We follow Komamura-taichou and Tousen-taichou because their justice is strong—it's something they can back. We just have to believe in them because they're better'n us."

Iba scoffed. "That makes no fuckin' sense. Only way they're better'n us is 'cuz they could beat us up, ain't it? 'S why they're captains."

Shuuhei sighed. "You've been in the eleventh too long," he said, and figured that explained everything.

Iba just ordered another drink and they didn't talk about it anymore that night.

But for a long time, Shuuhei really believed in everything he'd said. He didn't need to be great himself because he served greatness, believed in a great man's cause. Took up the sword for those ideals and for that man because by himself he was just a regular guy. A good man at best.

It took defeat on a rooftop and betrayal on a hilltop for Shuuhei to realize that maybe he'd been just like Iba all along—confusing strength and goodness. Using them interchangeably.

Tousen had seemed stronger than him, both in ability and conviction, and Shuuhei had wanted very much to believe that Tousen was as good as he was capable.

But he forgot that men who fought well didn't always live well, that just because his captain could wield a sword didn't mean he wasn't subject to the things other, weaker men were as well. Greed, corruption, manipulation, lies.

Maybe Tousen Kaname hadn't been the great man Shuuhei always thought he was.

"Is Zaraki a great man?" he asked Yumichika one day, because he'd searched all over seireitei after his captain's betrayal and found the universe to be backwards and upside down ever since. Everything wasn't as it had once seemed.

"Of course he is," Ayasegawa sniffed, as though the answer should be obvious.

"Why?" Shuuhei asked, and pulled Yumi closer. For some reason he needed an answer—any kind. Something to hold on to.

"Because he doesn't know it," Yumichika twittered, like it was some sort of joke. "Because he's never tried to convince anyone he is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Shuuhei murmured with furrowed brow, and didn't quite follow.

"You should know already, I think," Yumi told him, and seemed more than bored with the subject as it was. "Kiss me."

Shuuhei did as he was told. When they pulled apart, he kept on. "How should I know?"

"You two are the same that way, aren't you?"

Shuuhei blinked—felt his mouth go oddly dry because he knew what Yumichika was implying but at the same time, had no idea. "What?"

Yumichika laughed at him then, kissed him again. "Great men can also be stupid men, unfortunately," he sing-songed, and stroked Shuuhei's stomach. "Don't think about it."

Shuuhei submitted to the touch, kissed Yumi languidly but continued to tell him, "You're wrong. I'm not."

Yumi just sighed and let the vice-captain insist whatever it was he was insisting, because every time Shuuhei did it was just more proof that Yumi—as always—was right. Besides, there were more interesting things to pay attention to below the waist at the moment, and if Shuuhei was going to be stubborn, Yumichika would simply have to prove the silly man wrong one step at a time.

By the time he was done—by the time they were both done—Yumichika had at least succeeded in convincing his lover that he was a good man capable of great (toe-curling) things.

Even if it meant being not-so-good every now and again, when they were both late for work afterwards.

**END**


	473. Thigh High

**473.**

**Title:** Thigh High  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Yumi, Ikkaku, Shuuhei, (mentions of Ikkira and Shuumi)  
**Word Count:** 998  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the chapters like, immediately following the end of the SS arc. I forget numbers.  
**Summary:** Yumichika needs a shorter skirt.  
**Dedication:** swinku—because I know drawing some things hurts your heart. XD Also, requested by westside.  
**A/N: **requested on my other lj. The prompt was _"School uniforms."_

* * *

"You can't wear that, dumbass."

Yumi sniffed. "Why not? I think I look good."

"He looks good," Shuuhei agreed, and didn't take his eyes off the fifth seat for a second.

Ikkaku rolled his eyes—ignored Hisagi. "Because this is a covert mission, goddammit. Nothin' covert about a drag queen showin' up in the middle of the school."

Yumi made a face. "Please. I'm not anywhere _near_ that garish. You're closer, what with the eye shadow and all."

"He looks good," Shuuhei pointed out again, and transfixed eyes followed the seductive sway of hips as Yumichika pirouetted in front of the mirror again, causing the skirt of his school uniform to blossom out invitingly around the tops of his knees. Shuuhei sighed, happily.

"What do you think about the bow, Shuu? I don't know, I think it's better than the tie, if you ask me."

"Bow's good," Shuuhei agreed automatically, though he wasn't really looking at it.

Ikkaku slapped a hand to his forehead. "And _I _get accused of havin' a one track mind. Fuck's sake, man, think about this will ya? Somethin' like Yumi in a girl's outfit? Totally blow our cover. They'll know we ain't regular high school students the moment we step through the goddamned door."

"You're _bald_," Yumichika reminded him, pausing in his bow-fluffing to give Ikkaku a significant look over his shoulder.

"_Shaved_," Ikkaku corrected him with a growl.

Yumi twittered. "Naughty."

"Shut the fuck up, that's not what I meant."

"I like the socks too," Shuuhei murmured, and wasn't paying attention to what was being said at all.

"Admit it, Ikkaku… I look cute," Yumi prompted, and put his hands on his hips. "It suits me."

Ikkaku rolled his eyes. "That's not the fuckin' _point_ Yumi…"

"What if Kira were wearing it?" the fifth seat pushed stubbornly. "You'd have pushed the skirt up right around his hips the first second you saw him and…"

Shuuhei's nose exploded in a shower of blood. "'scuse me," he murmured, and pressed a palm to his face before going off in search of tissue. He stopped in the doorway for a second though, turned to Ikkaku. "Be gone when I get back."

"Whatever," the third seat grunted, and tried not to think about what kind of perverted thoughts had to be going through Hisagi's head right about now.

He turned back to Yumi instead. "Don't try to change the subject, bastard… Kira's not…" Pause.

Yeah, okay… on second thought Kira might look pretty…good.

"Huh," Ikkaku grunted, and felt his mind shut off when he pictured it. Those _were _pretty nice socks.

Yumichika heard the gears in his friend's head grind to a perverted halt.

"See?" the pretty shinigami purred, and turned back to the mirror in a very self-satisfied way. "It's only natural."

Ikkaku wiped drool from the corner of his mouth. Set his jaw next—more determined than ever now. "I'm tellin' you, Yumi!! Put the goddamned guy's uniform on and shut the fuck up about it. Draw attention for fifty miles away the way you're goin'. And besides, that skirt length ain't for shorties like you anyway! Little thing like you looks like yer playin' dress up in your momma's clothes or something."

Yumi frowned and looked down, examining his hem. "I need a shorter one?"

"Well you're shorter, ain'tcha?" Ikkaku reminded him, and crossed his arms.

Yumi sighed. "Well, I suppose you're not wrong there. The less clothing on me the better I look."

The bald death god stood up a little bit straighter, tried to ignore that last comment and sound properly authoritative. "Er… glad you're seein' things my way…finally. I guess."

Yumi rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. I'll put the guy's uniform on. But I still maintain that these socks are much more fun—and naughty-- than the boring ones that go with the loafers."

"Yeah, yeah. Get the hell on with it, will ya?"

The fifth seat complied with a little sniff, and soon had returned to a normal looking—as normal as _he'd_ get anyway—male uniform. "There… happy?"

"Perfectly," Ikkaku told him, and scooped up the neatly folded girl's uniform. "Gonna go return this to research and tech. Before you uh, change your mind or something."

Yumi eyed him suspiciously, just about to say something on the matter, but was cut off when Shuuhei stumbled back into the room, tissue paper stuffed into his left nostril. "I'm back! I'm back!"

He paused, blinked at Ikkaku when he saw him. "You're…"

"Right, I'm gone," Ikkaku assured the vice-captain, and slid hastily out the door, girl's uniform tucked securely up under one arm.

"What's this?" Kira asked sometime later, wrinkling his nose in a perplexed manner as he held up the shirt and bow Ikkaku had just now presented him with up in front of his face.

Ikkaku grinned. "Try it on."

Kira blinked at the vague answer. "Waitaminute…is that a _skirt_?"

"Mid-thigh, baby!" Ikkaku whooped anticipatorily, and pushed Kira into the bathroom to change.

Kira sighed. It _was_ Ikkaku's last night before the group departed to Karakura, he supposed.

"He's lucky I look good in these," the blond muttered to himself, and took off his pants.

Meanwhile, Shuuhei mourned the loss of the skirt heavily, but figured he preferred Yumichika naked anyway.

Besides, Yumi needed a shorter one to live up to full skirt-potential.

Maybe Shuuhei would buy him one when he got back. You know. A welcome home present.

That'd be nice.

"Mid-thigh?" he murmured into Yumichika's ear, and the fifth seat laughed.

"Mid-thigh," Yumi agreed, happily.

Shuuhei groaned and buried his face into the other man's neck. "Come home soon."

"I'm not gone _yet_," Yumi whispered, and proceeded to prove it.

Shuuhei's last thought before he wasn't able to think anymore was that he hoped-- for Ikkaku's sake-- that the third seat was getting _half_ as good a send off as he was.

And that Kira looked as good in a skirt as Shuuhei suspected he would.

**END**


	474. Gateway Drug

**474.**

**Title:** Gateway Drug  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Nanao, Matsumoto, Nemu, Isane, Yachiru, Kiyone.  
**Word Count:** 919  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just OOC and Crack. I can't write Nemu.  
**Summary:** It's all Matsumoto's fault.  
**Dedication:** JAB- BOOBS. (AND GAY PORN YOU BASTARD.) Also, requested (sort of) by skadhelias.  
**A/N: **requested by skadhelias on my other lj. The prompt was "_Shinigami women's association and yaoi couples_." I AM LAME.

* * *

"We have to look at this logically," Nanao announced to everyone in an authoritative manner, the eighth division vice-captain holding out the charts she'd made earlier with a decisive flourish. 

Matsumoto blinked. "You made charts?"

"To be logical," Nanao reiterated, primly. "We can't just go about this from any angle with no set course, you know."

"They're very nice charts," Nemu said dully, and by the tone of her voice no one knew if she was talking just to say something or if she actually meant it.

"How do you look at something like this logically?" Isane posed sensibly. "I mean, matters of the heart aren't something that can be _charted_, are they?"

Nanao sniffed. "They can be if it's done meticulously."

No one argued about Ise-fukutaichou's meticulousness.

"So?" Matsumoto pushed, and leaned back so she could pour herself a glass of liquor from the hip flask she'd gotten from Renji for her birthday. Useful little thing, but nowhere near big enough for her as far as she was concerned.

Nanao eyed the lounging blond and twitched a bit. "Well," she began, slowly, "in all honesty, I think you're partially to blame for all this, Matsumoto."

Rangiku snorted—sprayed some booze in a little shower over Nanao's carefully charted out diagrams when she did. "Me? How?"

Yachiru tugged on Nanao's sleeve. "Are we gonna talk about cupcakes now?"

"Soon," Nanao promised her, and adjusted her glasses again. Back to the matter at hand—this had to be Rangiku's fault.

"The hell is it my fault?" the tenth division shinigami pushed, and wiped the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand before wiping it off on the side of her hakama.

"Well if you look at things," Nanao began, clinically, "Ikkaku, Shuuhei, Ichimaru-taichou, Renji… all had, at one point or another, voiced _admiration_ towards your…" the eighth division vice-captain's eyes strayed very slightly in the direction of Matsumoto's chest, "…character."

Rangiku belched. "Oh, 'scuse me. Yeah, and? The hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Gateway drug theory?" Nemu posed out of the blue, and really, to look at her no one would have known that she'd been paying attention to the conversation as much as she'd been to the paint peeling from the wall beside her.

"That's one way of putting it," Nanao concluded, nonplussed.

Rangiku blinked. "That makes no sense." She gave up on pouring more shots and just took a pull right out of the flask before continuing. "I didn't do nothin' to those idiots. Ever."

"And doesn't account for um… Kira and um, Yumichika. Or Kuchiki-taichou," Isane added, thoughtfully.

Nanao shrugged. "Nature is responsible for _those _three if you ask me."

Isane blinked. "Well, I guess that…I mean…" Pause. "They're all very pretty."

"Again I ask, the hell does this have to do with me?" Rangiku demanded impatiently, and slapped a hand against her thigh. "Like I said, I never touched one of 'em."

"Which might have been the problem," Nanao told her. "You were _appealing_ to them because physically you're quite…" she gestured towards Matsumoto's chest, "…feminine. But inwardly you've got…" she glanced at the booze then, "traits they would perhaps associate with their own. They must have found that a surprising—tempting—combination."

"So then Ise-san is saying… they got to thinking," Isane continued, when she picked up on where this was going, "and figured maybe it wouldn't be so bad to date someone more like them than like… well… us? And um…_forgot_ about the physical part in light of that?"

"Precisely," Nanao agreed, and looked rather pleased with how well her theory had caught on.

Matsumoto sighed. "Anyone ever figure they just are 'cuz they are?"

"Yumi-pon can only date 'handsome' not 'beautiful'!" Yachiru offered helpfully. "He says he wants someone who compliments him'n not wilts in the shadow of his loveliness," the little vice-captain recited, like she'd been specially trained.

For all anyone knew, she probably had been.

"I drew a pony!" she added after she was finished, and pointed to the carefully scrawled out likeness she'd drawn right on top of one of Nanao's meticulous charts.

"That's very nice," Isane offered kindly.

"But anatomically incorrect," Nemu corrected, clinically.

"Can we please focus?" Nanao urged, impatient. "I think my theory holds some validity and…"

Rangiku slammed her shot glass down on the table in protest to that. "Oi!" she shouted, and pushed back her chair so she could stand up. "I'm telling you, it's not my fault!" the blond insisted, putting two hands on her hips and puffing up in righteous indignation. She took a deep breath. "I never once gave any of those… the hell are you all looking at?"

Everyone stared at her chest.

"Likin' people who're more like _them_, over the physical eh?" Kiyone drawled, and sounded skeptical as her eyes watched the blonde's considerable assets resettle themselves. "Bullshit."

Isane cleared her throat and quickly averted her eyes down at the table, blushing a little. "M-maybe it wasn't Rangiku-san's fault after all then, ne? I mean…" pause, "…she's very pretty."

Nanao adjusted her glasses—again. Stood a little straighter and coughed, not mourning the complete dissolution of her hypothesis at a mere _sway and bounce_ in the slightest. "Well. It was just a theory, you know."

A beat.

"That's not anatomically correct," Nemu stated after a moment.

Nanao supposed it was just about the perfect time to switch the topic of discussion to cupcakes, as their Madame President had suggested earlier.

Yachiru naturally, was delighted.

**END**


	475. Play with Me!

**475.**

**Title:** Play with Me!  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru  
**Word Count:** 688  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for how Kenpachi got to be a captain.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi, Yachiru, and pin-the-tail-on-Ikkaku.  
**Dedication:** lissiel- sorry about FAILING the last request. ;; Also for sophiap- thanks for all the help on bleachexchange!  
**A/N: **Requested as a rain check on my other lj—topic was "_Yachiru being protective of Kenpachi_."

* * *

At first, she hadn't really understood.

"Why can't you play with me, Ken-chan?" he remembered her asking, and he'd sighed—long-suffering—before pointing to his papers.

"Paperwork," he explained, the new eleventh division captain thinking that since they suddenly had a roof over their heads and food to eat whenever they wanted now, she ought to know there were things Kenpachi had to do in return for all that. Shit didn't come for free—he'd made sure that was one of the first goddamned things he'd ever taught her.

"Eeeh, paperwork? But you never had to do that before!" she complained anyway, and pouted and sat on his desk and made a general nuisance of herself while she tried to interpret whatever it was that was so fascinating about the papers he was drawing on.

"Well now I gotta," he said, because that was all the damned explanation she needed as far as he was concerned. She'd figure the details out on her own before too long—she was bright like that. Or Yumi would tell her, because he was all adamant about her getting some sort of thorough explanation whenever something happened. Said it helped with her developing or something stupid like that, Kenpachi wasn't really listening ever.

She only pouted at that though, and looked absolutely wounded as she sat there on his desk pawing at his reports and smudging his ink all over her hands. "I don't wanna share Ken-chan with paperwork!" she declared—all bossy like—after a moment.

"Well you gotta," he said, and thought maybe he ought to get her drunk or something so she'd maybe fall asleep and let him get his goddamned work done. Stupid brat clearly didn't appreciate that they were here doing this because the _life_ was better than it used to be and she could _go to school_ and _eat meat every night_ and _not get jumped just walkin' the goddamned streets_.

Well, they still got jumped every now and again, but now they got _paid_ instead of indicted for killing the things that jumped them. 'Sides, wasn't like a captain position ever just _opened_ _up_ easy like or anything.

She continued to frown all the same. "Why?!" she demanded.

He blinked. "Why what?"

"Why do you gotta?"

He sighed. "Because that goddamned…" pause. "Because…that goddamned old fart says I…"

He blinked again.

She stared at him. "Ken-chan?"

He leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. "Huh."

"Huh?" she echoed, and crawled up his arm to rest on his shoulder. She knocked on his head with a little fist when he didn't answer for a while. "Ken-chan?"

He turned then, shrugged her off his shoulder, but only so she slid more comfortably onto his back. "Maybe I don't gotta."

"Waah, really?"

He felt himself smiling, just a little bit. "Maybe not."

She beamed. "So you're gonna play with me?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"What you wanna play, dumbass. I don't want anything to do with any gay-ass tea party you're havin' with Yumichika."

"I wanna play pin-the-tail-on-the-baldie!"

"Well… then I'm in."

She giggled. "Silly Ken-chan, you should have just come out and play right away when I asked!"

He stood then, and looked down at the reports he'd been wasting most of the morning working on. "Guess I don't know what came over me," he admitted, and let her climb on top of his head to lean forward and look him in the eye upside-down.

"Silly Ken-chan!" she laughed.

"Silly me," he admitted. "Now where's baldie?"

"Runnin' drills in the yard!"

She squealed in delight when he took off then, and neither of them ever looked back once.

Zaraki grinned and didn't mind running out to get a little fresh air and exercise after being cooped up for so long-- figured if he got fired for not doing his paperwork he could always just go ahead and kill Kurotsuchi and take his job, or something.

Make the system work for _him_, as it were.

And he had to admit—'cuz she'd figured it out before him—Yachiru really was a pretty damned bright kid when she wanted to be.

**END**


	476. Idle Threats

**476.**

**Title:** Idle Threats  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ichigo, Rukia (lightly IchixRuki?), Hinamori  
**Word Count:** 795  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc by proxy.  
**Summary:** Related drabble to #60 (Captain Complex)- What's so great about Rukia anyway?  
**Dedication:** tokkichan, who wanted IchixRuki in this setting for her prize drabble. I'm out of practice, and this is an old idea, but hopefully it's not too lame. XD  
**A/N: **CRACK. But you know, what else is new?

* * *

"Argh," Ichigo said, but was careful to say it under his breath. "Argh." 

Rukia looked unsympathetically at him. "It's your own fault."

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT!" he shot back automatically, before realizing his mistake and ducking down again, presumably out of sight from any doors or windows in Rukia's division headquarters. "It's not my fault," he reiterated, this time in a shouted whisper.

She smirked, rather liking him in this vulnerable position. "How cruel of you, gobantai-taichou," she murmured in her sugar voice, acting absolutely appalled at his deplorable behavior. "Avoiding your sweet little vice-captain like you are when all she wants to do is get to know her new taichou-sama better."

He stared at her. "That's great. That's very funny. You're so _freaking hysterical_, Rukia, I swear to god I'm so intensely amused right now it's in infrared and _that's why_ you can't see _how amused I am_ on my face."

She stared back at him. "Your sarcasm fails when I don't understand your bitterly irrelevant human terminology."

"Dammit."

A beat.

"Shouldn't you show me respect or something? I mean. I outrank you and stuff."

She laughed at him.

He scowled. "I'm allowed to write you up for insubordination, right?" Pause. Grin. "Hah, betcha captain nii-san-hair-curlers-too-tight would _love_ to see another black mark on your _not so pristine_ record."

She stopped laughing. "You wouldn't."

He grinned. "I learned how to do the official paperwork _yesterday_."

Her eyes narrowed, dangerously. "The only new black mark nii-sama would see is the one I get when I kill you. And call me crazy, but he'd let that one slide on account of not liking you very much."

He looked smug, crossed his arms. "Oh I don't…"

"Taichou?! Kurosaki-taichou?! Where are you?! Are you here?"

Ichigo stopped mid-sentence at that sweet-voiced (scary) little reminder of why he was in the thirteenth division headquarters in the first place. His smugness quickly dissipated, to be replaced with an expression of horror as they were both reminded of why he was even here at all.

It was Rukia's turn to grin.

"No!" he implored, and did the closest thing to begging he'd ever done in his whole life. "C'mon, I was joking, a joke!" he urged in a pained whisper..

Her smile only got more and more evil—he supposed he should have expected it.

She took a deep breath then, all ready to give him away like he so richly deserved.

"Ooh, I know he's here! He always runs off to see Kuchiki-san," Momo's voice continued, talking to herself as she paced dangerously close to the window Ichigo was crouched (cowering ever so slightly) under.

Huff. "What's so great about her anyway?"

Rukia paused in the middle of her deep, revealing breath. "What?"

Despite the dire nature of the situation, Ichigo had to slap both hands over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud at Momo's question. When that didn't work he tugged up the collar of his captain's jacket and buried his face into it.

Hinamori's head poked into the little office a moment or two later. "Kuchiki-san! There you are," she said, and looked relieved. "Is Kurosaki-taichou around here?"

Rukia looked at the other girl—cocked her head to the side. "What do you see in him anyway?"

From under the windowsill, Ichigo looked mildly offended that that was even an issue here.

Momo blinked. "Kurosaki-taichou?"

Rukia nodded.

Momo beamed. "He's great! He's strong and kind and funny and handsome and…"

"Not here right now," Rukia told her, quickly. She tried not to puke all over herself.

"Oh," the little vice-captain sighed, and looked disappointed. "Maybe he's out visiting Zaraki-taichou again."

Rukia blinked. "Er… yeah. Maybe that."

"Well, good-bye then, Kuchiki-san! Thank you for your help!"

"No problem."

Hinamori's head disappeared then, and both inhabitants of the room waited a good two count before daring to speak again.

Ichigo looked a bit baffled. "Why did you…"

Rukia hugged herself and shivered a bit. "Strong and kind and funny and handsome?"

"Er…"

"There is something very, very wrong with that girl," Rukia concluded, and made a face.

"Yeah there's… the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing," the petite shinigami sniffed. "Now go get me some lunch."

Ichigo stared. "_What_?"

"Or should I call Hinamori-fukutaichou back and…"

"FINE."

He'd show her.

She eyed him as he stood and prepared to head towards the thirteenth division mess hall. Like she was reading his mind. "No beans."

"Dammit."

Rukia grinned and watched him trudge out the door, making a little mental amendment to her last statement.

Strong and kind and handsome she wasn't sold on.

But maybe Hinamori was a little bit right about Ichigo being funny.

Because right now, Rukia thought his shoulder slump of defeat was absolutely _hilarious._

**END**


	477. Doctor's Orders

**477.**

**Title:** Doctor's Orders  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KomamuraxUnohana.  
**Word Count:** 897  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Komamura and his yearly physical exam.  
**Dedication:** sophiap- haha your one liners are always the best part of the week, and I know you've got to have lots of perseverance to keep up with it every single week. XDALSO Thanks for the AMAZING b-day fic. ;;  
**A/N: **requested by westside during my last meme. Kind of a… weird topic, but I did my best! Maybe. Request was "_sex talk_." I KNOW THIS PAIRING IS STRANGE BUT I THINK IT COULD BE SWEET UNDER THE RIGHT CIRCUMSTANCES, OKAY?

* * *

"Is this absolutely necessary?" Komamura asked, trying to sound commanding but coming out more obviously-uncomfortable instead. "I mean…" 

"Protocol," Unohana told him gently, though the look in her eye said that she was really rather amused by the whole thing. "I'm just doing my job, taichou-san."

He'd never been particularly happy about having fur before, but he was momentarily thankful that it hid his blush. He coughed. "Well, yes. I agree that protocol is very important, but at the same time….Nnngh!"

"You're a bit warm," she murmured thoughtfully—_sweetly_—to him as her hand brushed his sloped forehead and gentle, probing waves of reiatsu slid into him from the tips of her fingers.

"Warn me when you're going to do that," he muttered, sounding embarrassingly petulant

when he did.

"Apologies," she responded serenely—if not genuinely-- and patted his head. After a moment, she withdrew her touch. "Well then, taichou-san, do you think you're ready for your annual full physical?" The slight upward quirk of her mouth told him she was rather looking forward to horribly mortifying him over the next hour or so.

"As ready as one can be for these things, doctor-san," he responded dryly, and sat up a little straighter so that at least he appeared dignified for this assault on his personal space.

She laughed at him then, a quiet chuckle as she prepared a dressing gown for him from one of the nearby cabinets.

Komamura sighed. Well, _that _was rather unprofessional.

"If you behave I'll give you a lollipop when you're done," Retsu added with a little smile, when she heard him huff. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Very funny," he told her, and was very, very near to rolling his eyes. "I still don't see why this is…" he cleared his throat, blushed even hotter, "I mean, there's obviously nothing you haven't already seen before."

"I must admit, I wasn't being very thorough in my examination the other night, taichou-san," she said smoothly, and handed him the largest size examination gown they had. "So my apologies, but this is still quite necessary."

He coughed again. "Er… right. Fine. Protocol is important," he echoed, and waited for her to leave the room so he could change.

She smiled gently at him, and didn't move one bit.

He looked at her. "Retsu…"

She cocked her head to the side. "Didn't you just say there was nothing I hadn't already seen before?"

He sighed—should have known by now he really couldn't ever win with her.

He began to disrobe.

He eyed her halfway through, but she simply sat by looking professionally bored, going over his medical charts from the last examination and humming quietly to herself as she waited.

He put the gown on as quickly as he could.

"Well," she began, the moment he was finished, "from the looks of things you've gained some weight since your last physical with me, taichou-san."

"My girlfriend is a lovely cook," he informed her.

She smiled. "How nice for you. Still, I would recommend cutting back on the intake—too much of anything—no matter how good—is ultimately no good, after all."

"Hm," he grunted, and supposed he could at least appreciate the irony a little bit. "I'll take that into consideration."

Her eyes flicked up at him then, and something warm with amusement twinkled at him, making him swallow nervously. "I'm sure your girlfriend would like to be involved in that consideration, taichou-san."

"Oh, I'm sure she already is, doctor-san," he sighed, long-suffering.

"Well then, I'll leave it to the two of you."

"Thank you."

She smiled. "And how often do you have sexual intercourse?"

He choked on his own spit. "Excuse me?"

"Standard question, taichou-san, you really ought not to be so surprised, mm? Protocol, after all."

He blinked at her. "You can't be…"

"None of it's worth mentioning then, I'll presume? Shame."

For all her warmth the woman could have a rather deadly teasing edge when she wanted to. He cleared his throat. "Twice a week, when I behave."

"And when you don't?"

He almost grinned. "Three or four."

She arched a brow. "A bit excessive, I think."

His expression fell. "Really?"

"Well, I suppose it's good exercise. But try not to strain yourself, you're not as young as you used to be, you know."

"Indeed." He very nearly laughed. "Though to be fair, I feel young again, in the right company."

Her lips quirked, almost imperceptibly. "As your doctor I feel it's my duty to remind you that feeling young and being young are two very different things, taichou-san."

"Thank you, doctor-san, for your professional assessment,"he said, pointedly. "And from your personal perspective?"

She practically glowed at him. "I feel nearly one-hundred myself again as well."

His grin returned then, full force. "Feeling any younger right now, perhaps?"

She looked at him pointedly. "I'm sorry, taichou-san, but we're far from through here. Protocol is very important, after all."

He sighed, disappointed but not entirely surprised. "Well, carry on then."

"Wonderful." She stood then, put the clipboard with his charts down on the countertop before very calmly—deliberately-- advancing on him.

He blinked. "Doctor?"

She smiled enigmatically. "Well, this is a_ physical_ examination, taichou-san. Protocol and all."

He swallowed.

"Now… tell me how _this_ feels, please."

He promptly submitted and did as he was told.

Protocol was very important, after all.

**END**


	478. Waves of the Ocean

**478.**

**Title:** Waves of the Ocean  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IchigoxRukia, hinted at KyourakuxUkitake  
**Word Count:** 999  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for some of Rukia's back story.   
**Summary:** It all goes back to the same place.  
**Dedication:** jenkat—sad you're selling all your IchixRuki doujinshi!  
**A/N: **Requested by ainbthen on my lj- the prompt was "_ocean_."

* * *

"Life is an ocean," her captain had told her gravely the two of them, watching their division mates raise their vice-captain's body high onto the pyre.

She'd felt too filthy to do it herself.

"An ocean," she'd murmured instead, and didn't understand.

"Wherever you go, whatever you're doing, however long you wait, the water always ends up in the same place… eventually," he'd said, and tried not to sound as sad as he was, even if everyone already knew Kyouraku's hand on his back was the only thing keeping him standing now.

"The same place," she'd repeated dully—emptily-- and still didn't understand.

Ukitake and Kyouraku had shared a look then—she remembered it very well for all its seemingly insignificant wealth of meaning—and thinking back on it, she supposed that her understanding meant very little to them because they'd understood every word of it themselves.

Like some sort of secret for those who weren't filthy, who couldn't still feel the blood of their loved ones on their skins and under it, behind their eyelids when they slept.

"Don't lose hope," Ukitake had added next, and she'd understood that part at least, even if it felt like the part that was farthest away from her.

"Don't lose hope," Kyouraku echoed, and squeezed Ukitake's shoulder.

Just like she didn't understand their secret language of looks and touches and words of comfort, neither had she known what was left to hope for.

She thought that maybe she'd lost it that night, as they'd lit fire to Kaien's body and watched the ashes disappear up into the night sky.

There hadn't been anything to hope for after that, even if those were the only words of her captain's she'd been able to make sense of.

For a long time, she just couldn't find any.

But when she watched Ichigo fight Grand Fisher for the same reasons Kaien had destroyed himself, she remembered feeling something like hope strike again. Strange but familiar—painfully so.

And so she took it and went with it-- hoped he would be okay, that he would live, that another person who was important to her wouldn't turn to ash.

Watching that battle had somehow felt like watching the one from years before, and she'd clutched her hands tightly at her sides, wishing so hard for something to change this time, in this fight that was different and somehow exactly the same as the one she'd witnessed long ago.

It was strange-- inexplicable. Like the now made a difference in the before somehow, even if Kaien's ashes had already flown heavenward.

She could still feel his blood whenever she closed her eyes.

Ichigo's fight that day had made some sort of difference to her, like it was the same thing but not, like it was the same time and place and people but not.

The same feeling—but not.

Standing there in the rain watching, she'd clenched her hands into fists so tightly her knuckles turned white, because watching this brash, loud-mouthed kid she'd just met fight to avenge someone precious to him suddenly meant the world to her.

She didn't think she'd ever wished so hard for anything before that moment.

"Live," she'd chanted under her breath. "Please live, please live!"

And he had.

He lived—impossibly, miraculously—and when he collapsed she caught him and put his head in her lap, forced herself to breathe because he was still there, still alive.

"Thank you for being able to survive, Ichigo. Thank you."

And right before he passed out—she wasn't sure—but she thought that he'd maybe smiled up at her, tired and bleeding, frighteningly familiar, but at the same time, entirely not.

As they'd looked at each other for that moment it felt as if they'd shared something distantly familiar-- the exact thing she remembered seeing on the faces of two old captains once a long time ago, the two of them sharing some sort of well guarded secret as they'd gazed at each other from across an impossible expanse, somehow managing to close the distance of a hundred thousand years in just its breadth.

He'd passed out right after-- before significance could really register in that look-- something like a "thank you" on his lips never quite making it out. It wasn't necessary anyway.

She remembered holding his head in her lap and wanting to yell and curse at him after that, to hug him and cry in relief as hope flooded every part of her for the first time in a long time.

Because she understood it now… maybe just a little bit.

The cryptic words her captain had said to her many years ago felt as if they had suddenly resolved from shadows of nothing and focused into a single line of meaning very deep inside her.

Wherever she went, whatever she did, however long she waited, they always ended up in the same place.

Eventually.

She knew this now, just like she knew how the rain falling around her and Ichigo's blood seeping into the dirt and the tears from her eyes would all flow down through the earth with time, would one day wash into the endless expanses of ocean that covered the world.

Just like that-- one way or another-- she would always find her way here.

The rain soaked them both and she tried not to let the meaning overwhelm her.

She remembered—even unconscious—how he'd smiled in a way that was both purely him and maybe a little bit of someone else as well, different and the same but ultimately, only Ichigo in the end.

Everything was connected.

She fixed him up as best she could and stood again, wiped blood from her hands on the grass and dried tears and rainwater from her eyes.

And she smiled when she looked at him, shook her head and sniffled one last time, thinking to herself that she felt like she'd cried an ocean tonight.

Maybe she had.

**END**


	479. All the Rage

**479.**

**Title:** All the Rage  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **light KeigoxMizuiro, Chizuru, mentions of Ichigo, Rukia, Renji, Matsumoto, Yumichika, Ikkaku et al.  
**Word Count:** 802  
**Warning/s: **Vague spoilers for the chapters immediately following the SS arc.   
**Summary:** Keigo believes there's no justice in the world.   
**Dedication:** for cheloya's request on my rare charries/pairings meme. Also for Katie, since Shini cockblocked you I thought I'd throw in your pairing anyway. XD  
**A/N: **The prompt was "_No sex on the bus_!" LOL I think that whenever the word "sex" is in a prompt I'm actually less inclined to write sex into the story. So here we just have the usual silliness. XD

* * *

"OH MY GOD WHY?!" Keigo sobbed, and held his hands up in what Mizuiro could only deem as a covetous gesture.

"Why what? Or why in general, like…philosophically??"

"Why on _earth_!" Keigo clarified, and pointed up ahead to Kuchiki and Kurosaki sitting together on the bus, and then to Ishida and Inoue, the midget with Matsumoto, hell, even Abarai sitting casually next to Kunieda like it was the most unimpressive thing in the world for these men to be beside hot girls.

He didn't even want to think about how Ayasegawa and Madarame had earned their strange little fanclub amongst the rest of the class's female population.

"ARGH," Keigo said, when rethinking his predicament made it harder to speak more clearly due to frustration and anger at the sheer injustice of it all.

"Want a drink of water or something?" Mizuiro offered, because he thought maybe something had gotten stuck in the other boy's throat.

"No! I want to know why _they_ got all the prime seats for this SIX HOUR BUSRIDE during our FIRST EVER HIGH SCHOOL TRIP and I get stuck with _you!"_

Mizuiro blinked. "No water then?"

"No!"

"It's probably because you yell a lot."

"What?"

"Girls don't like guys who yell a lot. You kind of…when they're around your voice gets really loud and you get dumb. I guess the dumb part's part of it too, girls don't like that either."

Keigo looked stricken.

Mizuiro thought fast. "But it's not like you're ugly or anything, so at least it's something you can fix."

Keigo sighed. "Yeah, yeah I guess you're right." Pause. "Still," he grumbled. "It's not fair! I mean, okay, I guess I could understand Kuchiki and Kurosaki… and Ishida and Inoue kind of makes sense in a weird, weird way… "

"Alphabet?" Mizuiro offered.

Keigo ignored him. "The kid and Matsumoto-san I don't get though!"

"That was her elbowing her way through and scaring off Hitsugaya-san's actual seating assignment partner."

"THEN WHAT ABOUT US?"

"Most everyone just switched around after the assignments to sit with their friends."

"Argh."

"Except for Abarai, who switched so he could snoop on Kuchiki and Kurosaki because he's jealous," Mizuiro added thoughtfully, and Keigo really didn't care about inter-class gossip that didn't involve him and a cute girl getting caught together somewhere.

A beat.

And then, "Well, what the hell is going on with Ayasegawa then?"

"Girls like gay guys," Mizuiro responded, in all practicality.

Asano blinked. "What, really?"

His shorter friend nodded. "I looked into it, and the numbers seemed good. It's why I'm bisexual."

Stare. "I uh…I didn't know."

Another beat.

"So…girls really dig gay guys?"

Mizuiro nodded.

"Have you ever…"

"Once."

Blush. "Was it…"

"Just as good."

Pause. "What…really?"

Another nod. "Different, but sometimes you want that."

Keigo thought he wanted some of _anything_ right about now.

"And girls really like that…"

"They do," Mizuiro repeated, and gestured over towards the back, where Yumichika and Ikkaku were living it up, Yumichika giving beauty tips and Ikkaku reaping the benefits of his friend's hearty knowledge.

Keigo stared.

And then a girl giggled and leaned over, and her tits were practically lying on Yumichika's arm and Yumichika—the bastard—looked like he barely even noticed.

The closest Keigo had gotten to a pair of tits lately had been running into his sister in the hallway and _that_ hadn't been the fun kind of tit contact in the slightest, especially since she always ended up punching him in the head after they crashed like that.

While Yumichika—the _gay guy_—had tits around him in all four cardinal directions, up close and personal like.

Keigo swallowed. And made a decision.

"Oi, Mizuiro…"

"Hmmm?"

"Kiss me right now."

Pause. "What? Why?"

"Just do it! I can't take this for six hours!"

"Three days," Mizuiro corrected, because that was how long the trip as a whole was.

"THREE DAYS," Keigo echoed, and grabbed Mizuiro by the collar of his shirt. "Do it now."

Mizuiro shrugged mentally. "Sure."

He kissed him.

And Keigo realized, with his lips pressed to his best friend's and his best friend's _tongue suddenly in his mouth that wasn't part of the deal_, that Mizuiro was right.

It was different.

But it wasn't _bad_ exactly, or weird, like he thought it would be.

Maybe it was only because Mizuiro really knew how to work his tongue or something.

But when they pulled apart Keigo was flushed and panting and kind of uncomfortable _in places_ that couldn't be taken care of right now, and that was enough sensory overload to contribute to his belatedly realizing that the entire bus had gone dead silent just now.

Unfazed, Mizuiro licked his lips and then went about fixing his hair.

Everyone stared.

"I KNEW IT!!" Chizuru screamed.

Keigo buried his face in his hands.

**END**


	480. Naked Party

**480.**

**Title:** Naked Party  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Iba+Yumichika, Ikkaku, Kenpachi, Yachiru  
**Word Count:** 998  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for 11th division backstory, I guess.  
**Summary:** Iba is uncomfortable with this.  
**Dedication:** shinigamikender's request on my rare pairing/charrie meme! I have to admit, this is one of my favorite second string pairs thanks solely to tsukishine. XD  
**A/N: **The request was "_hot springs_."

* * *

"This seems like a shitton of work for just a new year's party," Iba grumped, looking around nervously. He lowered his voice. "And kind of gay, too."

Ikkaku shrugged and tossed back another beer, lounging around in his robe lazily. "Well yeah. Look who planned it."

Iba sighed. "Yeah."

"Better'n last year though, gotta give it to him," Ikkaku breathed, and looked satisfied so long as there was booze. "Good job, Yumi!" he called across the room to the sparkling fifth seat.

"Of course it was a good job," Yumichika scoffed, padding over haughtily. "I didn't want the division new year's party to end up like last year's, where the entire budget was spent on alcohol and we loitered in the alley behind headquarters and threw rocks into the pond while people got drunk and stinky."

"That wasn't a bad party either," Iba speculated, and quickly up-ended his own drink when Yumichika joined them. "Lots less…naked." He surreptitiously eyed the slim expanse of Yumichika's legs and told himself that last year definitely didn't have any of _that_.

"There was naked then! Just less _organized_ naked," Yumichika pouted, and poked Tetsuzaemon. "Speaking of, have you been in the water yet?"

"Nope," Iba said, and quickly looked around for more beer. "Just gonna drink some. Ain't big on bein' naked in groups or nothin'…"

"Well clearly you don't see the beauty of my plan then." Yumi crossed his arms.

Ikkaku snorted. "You jus' wanna grope some guys under the water."

Yumi beamed. "Ah, my best friend who knows me so well. And are _you_ going to bathe with us this fine day? You could use it."

"Ain't drunk enough yet," Ikkaku said simply, cracking open another beer. "You'n Tetsu go'n ahead. I know you been eyein' some of those new recruits."

"_Goodie,_" Yumi twittered, and promptly grabbed Iba by the belt of his robe and dragged him off. "Join us before you pass out, ne?"

Ikkaku saluted them with his beer.

Iba scrambled. "Oi…Yumichika what're you…I don't…"

Yumi ignored him, and Iba was forced to hop after the fifth seat to keep his robe from flying open.

"Uncomfortable!" Iba choked. "I'm uncomfortable with this!"

Yumi chuckled. "Virgins are cute."

"Waitasecond… I ain't a…"

Yumi threw aside the sliding doors to one of the bathing rooms without listening to Iba's protests. A cloud of hot steam hit them both in the face. "Lovely!"

"You're not allowed in this room, Yumichika!" a voice called out from inside, and ruined the fifth chair's anticipatory look as he'd begun to shrug out of his own robe.

He pouted at Kenpachi's order. "Why not, taichou? After I worked so hard to plan this for everyone."

"You just wanted to see naked people, asshole. 'n _nobody's_ allowed in here… least 'til me'n Yachiru are done."

"I'm _done_ Ken-chan!"

"Wash behind your ears, brat. I saw ya missed a spot."

"Did not!! I wanna go play pingity-pong with Maki-Maki!"

"Shut up and clean your goddamned ears. Fer fuck's sake."

"Fine!"

Yumichika sighed and closed the door.

"So much for that?" Iba asked, and started back towards the lounge, where most of the eleventh division was reenacting last year's party and working on getting drunk. Maybe he could find Renji and start a good old fashioned brawl or something.

"Nonsense," Yumichika told him, undeterred. "There's still the private rooms if all else fails." His eyes danced.

Iba swallowed. "Urm… maybe we oughta go back'n see if Ikkaku's drunk yet…"

"I've already groped him plenty," Yumi waved, bored-sounding at the suggestion. "He doesn't react anymore."

"What…really?" Iba blinked, and felt his cheeks go pink at the thought of the two of them… doing stuff. "That's uh…that's…gross. Really um, gross," he said.

"Mmm," Yumi responded noncommittally, and grabbed the front of Iba's robe again.

Tetsuzaemon noted with a gulp, that the fifth seat hadn't even bothered putting his own robe back on properly, and watched as the shoulder Yumi had shrugged off just now hung loosely over his arm, bouncing a bit as he walked and revealing smooth, white skin all the way.

Definitely too much nakedness at this party. Iba's face felt hot.

"T-this… um… I need beer!"

"There's plenty of beer, I made sure of that," Yumichika said, and turned to give him a significant look over one perfect, bare shoulder. "Now stop being such a prig, we're supposed to be having fun! And I need to find some cute new recruits to get acquainted with!"

Iba flushed. "Then why d'ya need me?"

Yumi sparkled. "Well you're cute too, of course!" he purred, before walking into another room. "One can never have too much eye-candy during these rare and precious opportunities."

"Oh," Iba said. "But I er, I don't swing that…"

Yumi let the robe fall off of his body.

Iba stared.

The fifth chair turned to look at him. "I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

"Er… no… no I wasn't…" Tetsuzaemon surreptitiously folded his hands over his crotch. "So… baths, huh?"

Yumi preened. "Public bathing is an arena well suited to the admiration of my _whole_ beauty," he told Iba matter-of-factly, and slipped into the water without further hesitation. "Now come and wash my back. I think some of the new administrative aides are in here."

Iba took a breath. "Er, one sec," he said, and counted backwards from 100 until he thought he had control of himself again.

That control lasted up until about two seconds after he got into the water, when Yumichika grabbed his ass.

He counted backwards from _500 _in prime numbers after that, telling himself that he really, really needed a beer.

When—after four more six-packs between them-- Yumichika licked his chest, he thought that maybe that was enough beer for both of them.

When he punched out a drunk administrative aide for groping Yumichika _back_, he thought that maybe he was in trouble.

And that he needed more beer after all.

Lots more.

And some counseling. Maybe some counseling too.

**END**


	481. Following the Trend

**481.**

**Title:** Following the Trend  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **KeigoxMizuiro  
**Word Count:** 979  
**Warning/s: **Tacked on spoilers from the following story with regards to the chapters immediately following the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Companion drabble to #479 (All the Rage)- 3 days looking at temples and castles and Mizuiro's ass.  
**Dedication:** Requested by whymetoday.   
**A/N: ** Haha another KeigoxMizu sex prompt, they're surprisingly popular. XD Anyway, once again, I skirt the subject. Because I'm bad at writing pron.

* * *

So it turned out gay guys _were_ popular. Just… _cute_ gay guys.

Which was probably why Mizuiro had suddenly gone up about six billion points in the girls-who-want-gay-best-friends department over the course of the bus ride here.

While—ironically-- all they kept doing was looking at Keigo like he was a pervert for hitting on them while he was right in front of Mizuiro—"What a _horrible_ boyfriend!"—and this wasn't going as planned at all.

Just his goddamned luck.

Also? _Also_?

They'd kissed. He'd _kissed_ his best friend, and while Mizuiro seemed fine and dandy and exactly the same Keigo felt weird. He felt really goddamned _weird_.

Sure he'd noticed his friend was a good looking guy before—pretty boy, the term was—but he'd never indulged in any thoughts beyond that simple fact before, no addendums of "kisses good with tongue," or "tastes like toothpaste," or "better looking than Tatsuki and maybe even Inoue, just lacking the boobs."

Keigo thought that maybe there was something wrong with him, and that it had all started right after that kiss. And so he thought that maybe gay kissing passed on gay diseases or something, and he was in the middle of a gay-fever right now and that was why his mind kept noticing weird things he'd never noticed before, like the way Mizuiro's shoulders were narrow and his wrists looked pale and delicate, how his hair was always nicely done and how small and cute he was, how he could even pass for a girl from behind maybe.

Gay.

Too gay.

And while kissing wasn't that big a deal or anything—right? _Right_?—thinking that the curve of your best friend's ass was particularly cute and perky and would look good in a skirt was definitely crossing some sort of gay-to-get-chicks line and going straight into gay-for-gay's-sake territory.

And how did two guys even _do_ stuff together anyway? It had to be kind of awkward and probably painful… Keigo made a face. Told himself to fight his gay-fever by reciting all the ways that gay stuff didn't seem to work in his mind.

Unless gay life was just a bunch of blow jobs or something. That might work.

Blow jobs and video games and pervy manga and no one questioning when you say you're sleeping over again, or you're studying together or…

"AAAUGH!!" Keigo screamed, right in the middle of Ochi-sensei's explanation about the historical significance of the particular bridge they were standing on, blah, blah, blah.

"Is something the matter, Asano?" she asked, dryly.

"YES!" Keigo mourned. "I think I'm sick."

Ochi-sensei sighed. "Fine. Kojima!"

Everyone grinned, knowingly.

"Yes, sensei?" Mizuiro asked, and munched on a frozen chocolate covered banana he'd gotten from a vendor a few minutes ago.

"Take Asano back to the hotel—he actually looks like he's gonna pass out any second now."

"Sure," Mizuiro agreed readily, prompting several snickers from his peers.

Keigo felt like throwing up. "Ungh," he groaned, and dejectedly let his roommate lead him back towards the room they were sharing with Sado and Kurosaki.

"Are you really sick?" Mizuiro asked after a moment. "You want a bite of my banana? Maybe it's heat stroke."

"It's definitely something sick," Keigo murmured, and did his best not to look at Mizuiro while he ate.

"Suit yourself," the dark-haired boy shrugged.

Keigo _tried_ not to look at Mizuiro while he ate, but ended up looking anyway.

"Blow jobs and video games," he muttered to himself, and thought that his friend really had nice skin for a guy.

"What?" Mizuiro asked, and eyed Keigo with just a hint of concern as they entered the hotel lobby.

Keigo sighed. "Hey, Mizuiro," he started, and told himself it was just the fever talking.

"Hmm?"

"How exactly… do two guys do it? You know, just out of curiosity."

Mizuiro blinked. "Well, lots of ways," he said, and licked his banana. "What kind do you want to know?"

Keigo ran a hand through his hair, bit his bottom lip and stared at the ground so he wouldn't stare at the banana instead. "Um…"

"You sure you don't want a bite?" Mizuiro asked, and waved it under Asano's nose a bit. "You keep staring at it."

"NO!! I DON'T WANT ANY OF YOUR GODDAMNED BANANA STOP WAVING IT IN MY FACE," Keigo shrieked, and jumped literally two feet backwards.

The hotel staff stared at him from behind the check-in desk.

"Suit yourself," Mizuiro shrugged, and went back to munching away. "Anyway, what kind of sex do you want to know about?"

Keigo flushed slightly and increased his pace towards the elevators. "Um… the kind where you can just sit down and play video games together afterwards, I guess," he murmured, and looked over his shoulder just to make sure no one was trying to eavesdrop.

The staff was still staring at him.

"That's kind of a weird stipulation," Mizuiro said, and looked thoughtful as they waited for the elevator. "I know the kind you can have _while_ playing video games…"

Keigo slammed his head into the wall once or twice.

Mizuiro watched him.

The elevator dinged when it came, and very carefully, Kojima directed his friend inside. "I could just explain the basics to you if you wanted, then you could I guess, improvise from there."

"Yeah, yeah, that'd be good," Keigo breathed, and rested his head tiredly against the back wall of the lift. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Have you ever…"

"Not technically," Mizuiro said, like it was nothing.

Keigo blinked. "What, really?"

Mizuiro licked his banana again. "Just fooling around stuff."

"Oh." Asano didn't know why he felt so relieved upon hearing that. "Well… okay. But you do know how…"

"Yup."

Keigo took a deep breath, and very slowly, stood up straight again. "So…"

"So?"

"What video games did you bring?"

**END**


	482. Table Manners

**482.**

**Title:** Table Manners  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumixIba, Ikkaku  
**Word Count:** 676  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers, just shameless proning. Sort of.  
**Summary:** Drinking night is sacred.  
**Dedication:** tsukishine- thanks for uploading the chappies for me!  
**A/N: **The request was, "Addition." I HAVE A FILTHY MIND.

* * *

Iba tensed.

Shuuhei blinked.

Yumi smiled and asked very sweetly, if anyone wanted any more sake.

"Yeah," everyone said, including Ikkaku (who, even sloshed, sensed there was something fishy going on).

Yumi twittered and poured everyone another drink.

Iba suddenly made a wheezing noise in the back of his throat mid gulp. Sake dribbled out of the corners of his mouth and down the front of his shirt.

Everyone looked at him.

"How fuckin' drunk are you, retard?" Ikkaku asked, snorting.

"My, you'd best slow down," Yumi prompted, sounding concerned in a "heeheehee" kind of way. "Shall I get up to get you some water?"

"NO!" Shuuhei and Tetsuzaemon both shouted.

"I'm good!"

"He's good!" Shuuhei agreed, and sounded a bit strained.

Ikkaku eyed everyone and sipped at his drink. Weirder and weirder.

Yumi beamed—unaffected—and sipped his own drink, only much more primly than Ikkaku ever sipped anything.

And then Shuuhei slammed a hand down on the table. Hard.

Everyone looked at him.

"Fly," he said, in an edgy sort of whisper. His face was already red, and Ikkaku wondered when the panty-waist's tolerance had gotten so damned low.

Yumi sparkled at him. "Did you get it?" he asked, voice low and inviting.

"I er…heh… um… yeah. I got it."

"Have another drink."

"Th-thanks."

Shuuhei sounded like he'd been punched in the gut or something. Ikkaku looked down at the alcohol in his cup, and wondered if it was a particularly potent brand, like the stuff Kyouraku-taichou carried around to make the things Nanao was always griping at him over sound funny.

Iba broke out into a sweat. "Seconds…please," he choked out after a moment, and with a shaking hand, extended his cup towards Yumichika again.

Yumi--unfazed—refilled it right to the brim, not spilling a drop. "It's good sake."

"Yeah, good," Iba and Shuuhei said, in hoarse tandem.

Ikkaku blinked.

"Are you two idiots sick or something?" he demanded, looking first to the one idiot on the left and then to the other one on the right.

"Something!" they wheezed.

Across the table from the third seat, Yumi looked extremely pleased with himself.

Even seven cups into the sake, Ikkaku's dulled senses could pick up something unsettling about _that_.

And then Shuuhei slammed his hand on the table again. And then one more time. And then again, for good measure.

Everyone looked at him.

"Fly moved," he explained, and he appeared way the fuck more glazed over than he shoulda been, considering.

Yumi practically glowed. "How…thorough of you, Hisagi-fukutaichou."

"Ung," Shuuhei responded dumbly, and the hand on the table clenched to make a fist.

Ikkaku stared, and something in his gut was telling him he was maybe missing something. Or something.

Then Iba slammed his _head _into the table. Once or twice. "OW." Pause. "Er…another fly?"

"We really ought to complain about the sanitary upkeep of this establishment," Yumi said with a tsk and a delicate toss of his hair, cool as ice.

Ikkaku blinked again. His gut screamed something at him.

There was a veritable temper tantrum of instinct going on in there.

Yumi reached across the small square table and poured him more sake.

"Er, thanks."

Yumi beamed. "Well it is drinking night, after all."

And it was.

Though in the last few minutes, Ikkaku thought it seemed like Shuuhei and Iba had stopped drinking altogether.

Which was weird, since this was drinking night, and drinking night was sacred and only interruptible by something even more sacred, and the only thing more sacred than booze night with the guys was getting some a…

Ikkaku's eyes bugged as he slowly—painfully slowly—added everything up.

Yumi just continued to smile at him.

A beat.

And then, "WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING TO THEM UNDER THE TABLE STOPS NOW!!!!!"

Iba and Shuuhei looked blearily at him as he shouted, their cheeks laid to rest against the cool table top as they panted. "Already done," they said—again in unison-- and sounded immensely relieved.

Ikkaku stared.

Yumi sparkled. "More sake anyone?"

Three hands went up.

**END**


	483. If Wishes Were Horses

**483.**

**Title:** If Wishes Were Horses  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Tousen, Komamura  
**Word Count:** 575  
**Warning/s: **Stupid humor and OOC. XD  
**Summary:** Tousen and Wishful Thinking  
**Dedication:** sophiap's request on my switch-prompt meme. Prompt provided by kotszok.  
**A/N: **This is incredibly stupid, but I had to. I HAD to. XD;; And it sounded better in my head, I swear. The result kind of just fell… flat. LOL

* * *

Tousen was not the type of man to complain about his lot in life. He didn't consider it unjust or even unfair that he'd never been able to see anything, that he didn't know color or light or how the faces of his friends appeared beyond the shape of their features under his fingertips when he was allowed to touch.

It was senseless to complain, to wish for change when there was nothing to be done on the matter. Best to move on from those foolish lines of thought and remember what he _could_ do, the gifts he _had_ been given.

There were those worse off than him after all, and many far less capable even with all their senses intact.

He didn't let his blindness trouble him.

Mostly.

There was still the stray occasion he supposed, that made him wish he could see, if only for the fact that it meant his sense of hearing wouldn't be as keen, his sense of smell not so sharp.

Komamura at those moments was hugely sympathetic to him, and perhaps that was why their bond was so strong-- the big fox's heightened animal senses often worked in complete tandem with Tousen's, though their sources were two completely different ones.

It made them a formidable force at the best of times—no one could sneak up on them, could fool them, could surprise them.

But at the worst of times….well. It could be crippling, to say the least.

And the worst of times came once every Wednesday around about noontime, when the bells for the commissary rung for lunch and hordes of hungry shinigami piled in to get a cheap, quick fix for their midday meal. The results lasted for hours afterwards and were rather devastating on both the seventh and ninth divisions as a whole (though both suspected that it hit the eleventh division the hardest, considering).

Komamura shuddered as they walked past said commissary on said worst of times, and instinctively, Tousen reached out to pat his friend's large side.

"That smells rancid," the big captain muttered, and glared in the distinct direction the offensive odor was coming from.

"Mm," Tousen agreed, and fought to keep from cupping his hand over his nose. The two of them increased their pace past the building.

Moments later, when they were far enough away to breathe in the fresh air again, Komamura actually chuckled a bit, resting big hands on his legs and breathing in deep. "I hate Wednesdays," he said.

Tousen allowed a small, crooked smile. "But bean burrito day is so popular."

Komamura chortled. "One of those days you wish you could see huh?"

The blind captain nodded. "If only for the respite."

"Tetsuzaemon's gas is worse than Hisagi's," the seventh division captain offered obtusely after a moment, and it was some consolation—however small—for the rest of the afternoon that still lay ahead of Kaname.

"I know," Tousen said, and patted his friend again. "And your sense of smell is better than mine."

"Only by a little. Only by very little."

Tousen chuckled. "I wish I could see."

They shared a quietly amused moment then, both finding it incredibly telling that the only thing in the world to thus far prompt Tousen Kaname into bouts of wishful thinking was the flatulence of their fellow shinigami.

And in the end—as bean burrito day was here to stay-- all they could do was laugh about it.

**END**


	484. Expedite

**484.**

**Title:** Expedite   
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Byakuya, Yachiru, Renji  
**Word Count:** 999  
**Warning/s: **OOC and stupidity. No spoilers I can imagine. LOL  
**Summary:** vaguely related to #459 (Forms Made Easy for Morons)- Yachiru wants Byakuya to come out and play.  
**Dedication:** requested by siedhr, prompt provided by seca.  
**A/N: **I've only seen the one meatbun omake with them both in it, but I suppose that's good enough, right?

* * *

A flat, "I'm cleaning my office today," was her answer when she asked where Byakushi was taking her today. 

She pouted and looked around. "But it's already _clean_, Byakushi!"

He twitched a little. "It's actually very dirty, if you look closely." He gestured to a neatly stacked pile of folders on the other side of the room. "Like those files for instance… I managed to sort them chronologically by date and now I have to go back and alphabetize them within the subcategories." He turned and motioned towards another stack on a low table. "And those incident reports have to be organized by type and severity and…" he trailed off when he realized she was just blinking at him. Sighed. "I have many chores to attend today, Yachiru. We'll get ice cream tomorrow."

She huffed. "Boo! Today is Byakushi day! Yesterday was baldy-head day, and the day before that was frilly-brows day!"

He supposed he ought to be flattered at having a whole day assigned to him on the little vice-captain's schedule, but right now all he could imagine was how trying it was going to be when he had to go through all those incident reports so he could categorize them appropriately.

"As I said, Yachiru…tomorrow you and I can get ice cream and it will be quite the same as if we'd gotten it today."

"Byakushi doesn't get it at all!" she protested, and looked wounded.

He looked away at that, and felt almost foolish for doing so. Cleared his throat after a moment. "Well, this absolutely has to be done before the end of the day, Yachiru," he said, and tried to sound as authoritative as he could. Little girls needed discipline lest they become spoiled children after all.

She frowned. "They _hafta_?"

He nodded, severely. "Yes."

She looked thoughtful for a while. "Okay! I'll help!"

He blinked, all severity lost at her cheerfulness. "Excuse me?"

"I'll help!" she repeated. "Be right back!"

He blinked again, but she was gone before he could protest, darting out of the window almost faster than his eyes could follow.

He stared after for a moment. "Oh. Well," he said to himself, and figured he should get back to his chores.

He was only about a tenth of the way through his filing when she returned.

"Byakushi!!!" she sang, and looked extremely pleased with herself (Byakuya thought that perhaps he ought to talk to Yumichika about that, because little girls who were too smug would probably end up like _him_ and the last thing this world needed was another Ayasegawa).

"As I said," he began again, with infinite patience, "I don't have time to play today, Yachiru and…"

She thrust a small, immaculately kept plastic drawer full of files at him. "Here!"

He stared. "I don't need any more containers, but thank you very much."

She sighed. "Byakushi is kinda dumb, huh?" she asked, in all innocence.

He thought he ought to have a talk with either Zaraki or Madarame about that. Little girls who lacked subtlety would probably one day turn into them. He shuddered to think. "Fukutaichou," he began, sternly, "I think you shouldn't say those sorts of things to people when you don't explain yourself properly first."

She thought about this, looked a little bit cowed after a moment. "Incident reports!" she explained then, slowly (because she clearly still thought Byakushi was kind of dumb).

Well, at least she wasn't saying it to his face anymore.

He sighed. "I see…" he said, glancing at the files and then back to her eager face. Resigned, he supposed he could take a bit of a break and humor her after having let her down earlier today. He opened the container (surprisingly well kept for something out of the eleventh division), and idly began flipping through.

A little while later, Abarai Renji stormed into the sixth division captain's office. "Sir? What's… er…what's this?" he asked, and held up one of the slips he'd just found in his mailbox.

"Incident reports," Byakuya told him—slowly. He licked at his vanilla ice cream cone.

"Hiya zigzag head!" Yachiru greeted, waving at him as she juggled a monster triple scoop chunky monkey super fudge cone in her hand.

Renji stared. "Er, hiya Yachiru. He turned back to his captain. "Taichou? I don't think I get this, exactly."

Yachiru giggled. "Zigzag head's kinda… du…er, slow, isn't he?"

Something just a little bit like amusement glinted in Kuchiki Byakuya's eyes. "Perhaps."

Renji blinked. "Er…taichou… you sayin'… that is… you want us to do everything on _these_ from now on?" he held up a single sheet of paper that read "Form 6- Stuff that almost killed/broke me" at the top in bold print.

Byakuya squinted at it. "Well, only the category sixes should go on those forms, Renji. As clearly stated on the heading. Please be sure that the men are shown how to properly write up and sort those incident reports from now on."

Renji stared. "I don't get it."

Yachiru blinked. "Zigzag head's kinda _really_ dumb!" she marveled, before realizing what she'd said. "Whoops, sorry Byakushi!" She looked contrite.

Byakuya simply settled back more comfortably in his chair. "I think that was one of those times where your assessment was appropriate," he explained to her calmly, because little girls should also know that things just couldn't be said any other way sometimes.

Renji looked very vaguely wounded. "Taichou?"

"Also, please have a thank you basket prepared for Ayasegawa-san at the eleventh division, Renji," he told his vice-captain before turning to Yachiru. "Proper thank yous should always be extended as well. It's only polite."

She beamed, face and fingers stained with ice cream. "Got it!"

When they were both done eating, Byakuya wiped her messy face and hands clean with his handkerchief and thought that little girls who learned all their lessons quickly and thoroughly were really very precious things.

Maybe next week, when Yachiru day came again, he would take her to the zoo.

**END**


	485. Softie

**485.**

**Title:** Softie  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Byakuya, Kenpachi, Yachiru  
**Word Count:** 354  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for 248 in a minor, minor way.  
**Summary:** Byakuya and Kenpachi—more alike than you'd think.  
**Dedication:** Beck-senpai! Thanks for driving me to get cranberry juice and boba tonight. ;;  
**A/N: **Dunno where this came from exactly—inspiration in the shower, I guess. LOL It's kind of stupid.

* * *

Zaraki grinned. "So. Scarves, huh?" 

No answer.

"That's pretty fuckin' cute there, Kuchiki-hime. You knit 'em yourself?"

No answer again, but he felt the rise in irritated reiatsu beside him anyway. Grinned even wider.

"There pretty pink flowers on 'em or somethin'? Maybe baby pandas? Little bitty kittens? You pack 'em lunch before you sent 'em off too? Like, leave little "have a nice day" notes in their pockets for 'em to find if they get lonely and shit?" Chuckle. "You may look like a goddamned prick but you're really a fuckin' softie, ain't ya?"

Byakuya eyed him. "I don't want to hear that from _you,_ Zaraki," he drawled, when he finally deigned to speak.

Kenpachi blinked. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Silence.

"Oi, just what're you insinuatin' there, hime?"

A bitchy little sniff then, and Kuchiki simply settled more comfortably in his seat, sipped his tea all superior-like, like some sort of goddamned queen. "I think you know. Please don't waste both of our time with stupid questions."

Kenpachi looked absolutely indignant. "You're callin' me a…me? _Me?_ No fuckin' way. Hair clips too damned tight there, asshole-- think you forgot who the hell you're talkin' to exactly. I…"

"Ken-chan!!" Yachiru called out then—right on cue maybe-- and waved from her seat on the swing. "Push me again! Push me again; I'm not goin' as high as I was!"

"Push your goddamned self!" he shouted back, irritable.

Byakuya's lips quirked upwards.

"PLEASE KEN-CHAN I DON'T WANNA STOP JUST YET I CAN GO HIGHER, BYAKUSHI HASN'T SEEN YET SO C'MON JUST PUSH ME ONE MORE TIME OKAY? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE?"

Kuchiki actually chuckled out loud.

"Fuck you," Kenpachi snarled, before standing and trudging over.

He pushed her.

"Byakushi lookit! Lookit how high I'm goin'!!"

"I see you, fukutaichou," he told her, and sipped his tea.

"Ken-chan, higher!!"

"You go any higher you're gonna wrap around the damned pole, ya dumbass brat."

"Will not!"

"Will too."

"Will not, not, not!!"

"Will goddamned _too_."

Byakuya watched the scene erupt into chaos then, and thoughtful, he wondered how Renji and Rukia were doing.

**END**


	486. Just to be Close

**486.**

**Title:** Just to be Close  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Komamura, Kenpachi (mentions of Tousen)  
**Word Count:** 366  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc. Also, crack. And OOC. Like woah. XD  
**Summary:** Komamura misses Tousen sometimes.  
**Dedication:** sophiap—sparked from some speculation we did about how Kenpachi would be a great friend to have. XD  
**A/N: **I dunno. I really don't. LOL This was just kind of spur of the moment. XD;;

* * *

Friendship with Tousen as Komamura had learned it was a study in caring very much for another person without being given the chance to be close to them.

But as Tousen was Komamura's first friend, the large fox captain hadn't known that friendship should have been any different from that. And in Tousen's case, if it _could_ have been.

But still.

Sometimes, he missed it. The dignity.

Sometimes—like right now sometimes—he wished that he wasn't close friends with _anyone_, if only so he could have that old dignity _back_.

Kenpachi burst out laughing. "Ahahahaha are you retarded?!"

Komamura scowled. "I'm _colorblind_, Zaraki. As I've said before."

Kenpachi held up the next thing. "Okay, okay…what color is this?"

Komamura stared at him.

Zaraki grinned at the pause. "What, you want a hint or something?"

"It looks grey. Everything looks white or black or grey. Like it always has. How is this _still _funny to you?" the fox asked, long-suffering.

Zaraki snorted. "It _is _grey. THAT'S what's so fuckin' funny. You don't even know when you're right!"

Komamura glared. "I hate you."

The eleventh division captain's grin broadened. He held up a log. "What color's _this_?" he asked, without missing a beat.

Komamura sighed and kind of missed those nice, distanced sorts of friendships, the ones with _absolute_ boundaries that could _never _be crossed. Like what he'd had back when he didn't know any better. Ignorance _was _bliss every now and again, he supposed.

Though he had to admit, Zaraki was pretty funny when he got drunk and kept crashing into walls and trees and other fairly large, stationary things because his depth perception got all wonky when he was inebriated. Komamura surmised that the eye patch probably didn't help things any.

In the meantime, Kenpachi continued to dangle the log, still waiting for an answer.

Komamura smiled intead. "Oi…Zaraki."

"What?"

"Let's go get a drink. My treat."

Zaraki promptly forgot about the log. "_Now_ you're talkin' my language."

The other captain bowed his head in a humbly friendly gesture. "Please feel free to have as much as you'd like."

"Bet your ass I will."

Sometimes, sometimes Komamura missed Tousen.

But then again… sometimes he didn't.

**END**


	487. A Year in the Life

**487.**

**Title:** A Year in the Life  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Kenpachi, mentions of Yumichika, Yachiru, Kira, Shuuhei, Iba, Renji (barely there mentions of IkkakuxKira)  
**Word Count:** 798  
**Warning/s: **No real spoilers, though some vaguely hinted at. Um. Also, kind of a rush job so done stupidly.  
**Summary:** Birthdays as a measure of time.  
**Dedication:** fellow Ikkaku fans idiosyn, tsukishine, explodinguterus, swinku et. al. Bald love!  
**A/N: **Wee, Ikkaku's birthday! LOL This done, then Zoro's next, right? XD;;

* * *

Birthdays are for celebrating. Hell, they can even kind of be considered a big deal too, when you come from a division that dies by the sword as often as it lives by it.

Birthdays are a sign you've made it another year without croaking, that maybe you've learned something along the way, gained something, lost something, tried something new. Moved forward, somehow.

For Ikkaku his birthday is all those things— a celebration _plus_.

He actually gets treated to lunch by Yumi (and how the hell often does _that_ happen?), the guys buy him a round and Yachiru draws him a card where he's covered in blood that's not his own and victorious over some unidentifiable mass of steaming dead flesh on the ground. It's really pretty sweet.

On top of all that Kira hadn't nagged him once about cleaning out the storm drain this morning—he's been putting it off for a couple weeks already—and he'd even gotten breakfast in bed (amongst other things) before the two of them had to be at work. Not too shabby, you ask him.

And that afternoon at work the rest of the division gets him a cake somehow, and even though his name is spelled kind of wrong on it, it's chocolate and tastes good and everyone gets to take a break from afternoon training to eat a piece. After that he gets home early and everyone's there already—dinner's made and booze is being poured and Kira doesn't even mind that not everyone is using a coaster tonight. They eat and they talk and Renji and Shuuhei and Iba break out the cards and the poker chips after the food's all gone so the four of them can go for a round or two. It's fun and full of energy, but they all make sure they don't get too invested in the game all the same, given that they know what's coming next.

Birthdays are for celebration.

But they're for other things too—they're a time marker, a reminder, a place on the calendar not only reserved for celebration but used for measurement as well, for seeing how far you've come since last year and the year before and the year before that. They're a sign of growth.

Zaraki leaves by eight to go put Yachiru down for the night, and everyone else lingers until nine or ten, at least until Ikkaku gets up and says he's got to go.

They all understand, wish him happy birthday and good luck as they head out the door.

Kira pecks him on the cheek and tells him to be safe as he can.

And then Ikkaku and Yumichika head out into the night together, and while his birthday had been fun and full of celebration thus far, Ikkaku knows it's just a marker really, a precise measure of time that reminds him of where he's been, tells him where he is now, maybe hints at where he's going in the future.

He and Yumichika return to headquarters in the dead of night, and Kenpachi is already there, waiting for them. Smoking his pipe. Just like last year.

"You ready?" their captain asks after a moment, and Yumichika gives Madarame a significant look that means a thousand things before he goes off to wait for his friend on the sidelines.

"Almost," Ikkaku says, and takes a deep breath, begins his dance.

Kenpachi rolls his eyes but sits the stupid ritual through, stands and draws his sword when the idiot looks to be about done.

"_Now_ you ready? We don't got all night you know."

"Yeah. I'm ready now." And then Madarame hefts Hozukimaru over his shoulders, grins. "Got something new to show you this year, taichou."

Kenpachi grins back—likes the sound of that. "That so?"

And they fight.

Birthdays are a celebration of growth. How far you've come in a year.

Last year, Ikkaku barely drew blood.

This year… this year he gets the eye patch removed.

And that in itself is cause for celebration.

He gets his ass handed to him a couple of hours later anyway though, and when they're done, Yumichika gives him a handkerchief to wipe the blood on his face off with and simply tells him and Zaraki both, "good work."

Kenpachi grunts.

Ikkaku laughs around the cut in his mouth from where he bit the inside of his own cheek. "Yeah. Thanks."

Kenpachi stretches. "I'm goin' to bed."

"Night taichou," they both say.

Soon after, the clock chimes midnight.

End of the day.

And Ikkaku thinks to himself-- as he's limping back home leaning on his best friend's shoulder—that now he's got a whole 'nother three-hundred-and-sixty-five-days to learn something even cooler for next year.

Plenty of time.

And hopefully, even more to celebrate.

**END**


	488. For War

**488.**

**Title:** For War  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Mayuri, Yamamoto, the spirit of Nemu  
**Word Count:** 809  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers through like, 250, to be safe? Also, blatant character rape. And I'm talking about Mayuri here.  
**Summary:** The sacrifices of war.  
**Dedication:** shinigamikender- thanks for the OST!  
**A/N: **IS IT SAD THAT THIS CAME TO ME PRETTY EASILY? I am a bad, bad person. Also, probably AU as far as the manga goes, it's just my speculation on the possibilities of what could happen next.

* * *

"What is this, Kurotsuchi?" Yamamoto demanded with a quiet menace—the sort that only worked on thugs and idiots.

Mayuri on the other hand, simply sighed—long-suffering but not surprised. "A request form for a new vice-captain. As stated at the top of the sheet of paper you're waving around, I believe."

"Then your vice-captain is…"

"Not dead," the scientist said, cutting straight to the point because he didn't have time to waste, unlike certain people who clearly stood before him. "Her purpose has been—altered."

Yamamoto's great, bushy brows furrowed. "How?"

He wasn't in the mood to explain exactly, but supposed the commander wouldn't leave him to his research until at least a rudimentary explanation of his intentions was offered. "Hyougoku's purpose is to bypass normal evolutionary measures in—as far as we know—Hollows and Menos. To create Arrankar faster than should be possible under normal circumstances."

"Yes," Yamamoto agreed. "What does this…"

"An army of Arrankar is being created, _sir_," Mayuri interrupted, too busy a man to be troubled into letting the small minds of these military types finish their silly little questions. "It would be an unfair advantage, put simply. As shinigami on the other hand, are created after countless cycles of reincarnation—death and rebirth—through which the layering of spiritual experience increases until it's dense enough to be controlled, to manifest itself physically into the form of zanpakutou. From what studies we do have on the matter, shinigami—much like Arrankar—are only created after the passage of countless life and death cycles. Not unlike something called a pearl in the human world if you need a more simple clarification."

Yamamoto still didn't look like he was following.

Mayuri sighed. "The research and technology institute—if no one else—sees this as a problem we cannot realistically overcome without implementing the necessary technological advances to viably _compete_ with Aizen's forces," he explained, deliberately pulling a very particular test tube from his rack and busying himself appropriately so this little explanation wasn't a _complete_ waste of his time. "As such, the twelfth division has put all of its other experiments on hold and will-- until such time that we are successful or we all _die_—find a way to artificially create complete, working shinigami. Unlike the modified souls of the past, these beings will have their own viable shinigami spiritual forms with which to battle."

Yamamoto stared. "So you are…"

"Creating a method with which to artificially compact the time necessary for the evolution of shinigami."

"And your vice-captain…"

Mayuri actually smiled a bit when Nemu came up, Yamamoto finally using what small neural pathways must have remained alive in his head through the ages to connect the dots.

"Humans are very interesting," Mayuri began. "The Quincy in particular. They are, as far as we know, the only human beings capable of the type of genetic imprinting that passes down _spiritual_ abilities. Their children inherit these abilities and would naturally possess them regardless of training or experience. It's in the very core of their genetic makeup to know what they are."

Yamamoto looked graver and graver as Mayuri continued speaking, but this time, did not move to interrupt. Clearly he was beginning to see the necessity of this as well.

"By combining what information I've been able to secure on the creation of hyougoku with the studies of human reproduction—particularly that of the Quincy—I am in the first stages of inducing shinigami birth. This shinigami—if successful—will have all the inherent abilities of a soul that has undergone the normal processes of building and storing spiritual energy, as well as the ability to use it almost instantly."

Yamamoto's voice was grim. "And your daughter…"

"Initially a failed experiment—her abilities had to be taught over the course of many decades. And even still, she's rather deficient when it comes to many things." He paused, chuckled a little. "But she's making up for her shortcomings now, by serving as the first carrier. Experiment #124950 to be exact. The child is due within the next week."

"Kurotsuchi…"

Mayuri waved the commander off—those who didn't understand the importance of scientific advancement could never be truly great. "If this is successful, you'll have your army to command, soutaichou. But let me create it first."

"But she's your daughter."

"And her purpose is to serve me."

Yamamoto wanted to protest, to order a cease to this horrific experiment, but the looming shadow of Aizen's super army held him back, the risk and slaughter of many more shinigami a decided weight greater than the value of Kurotsuchi Nemu's one artificially created life. "Do what you must," he said, after a long, pain-filled moment.

He turned to leave then, but paused halfway through the door.

"And if it fails?"

Mayuri scoffed. "It wouldn't be her first time."

**END**


	489. The Most Important Day

**489.**

**Title:** The Most Important Day  
**Rating:** G  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru  
**Word Count:** 767  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Why today is important.   
**Dedication:** All 11th fans everywhere. y  
**A/N: **Figures this came to me right after I finished the retarded crossover one. LOL oh well, this is how my mind works I guess. XD;;

* * *

He didn't remember when his real birthday was. To be fair, it wasn't all that big a deal to him considering it was an event he himself didn't even _remember _being at, so there was very little appeal in his own birthday as far as that form of significance went. Hell, he hadn't even had a _name (_or anyone to call it) before, so something as trivial as when his birthday actually was seemed like it wasn't even worth mentioning in light of all that. 

But then there had been someone. A couple of someones, maybe even, to call him by his name.

And they all happened to be nosy fucks. One of them in particular.

"Ken-chan! Ken-chan!" Yachiru said one day, and shook his arm because it was (clearly) urgent.

"What?" he grunted, and eyed her in a "this better not be an attempt to waste any of my beer-drinking time" sort of way.

"When's your birthday?" she asked him, and looked troubled that she didn't know.

Zaraki sighed and supposed that coming off the tail end of Madarame's birthday; this had been bound to come up between them sooner or later. "I dunno," he told her, in all honesty.

She frowned. "But that's not fair!"

"Why's it not fair?"

"Everyone has a birthday, don't they?"

"Well yeah. But not everyone knows when it is."

"I know when mine is!"

"Not technically," Zaraki reminded her.

"Well you gave me my birthday!" she stated, like that was all she needed anyway. "How come you didn't give yourself one?"

He shrugged. "Didn't think it was important. 'Sides, the one I gave you was just the first day I saw ya, so it's easier for me."

"But it's still important! When will we know when to give you cake and presents and alcohol?"

"Give me alcohol every day," Zaraki suggested, sensibly. "Then ya won't miss it for sure."

She pouted at him. "Ken-chan!"

He sighed. "Look, if it's that important to ya why don't _you_ just choose a day'n that'll be that?"

She stared at him wide-eyed. "Really?! Can I?"

"Well I chose yours, so I guess it's only fair."

She looked thoughtful—it was a very serious mission to her, maybe. "What days do you like, Ken-chan?" she asked after a moment of deep concentration yielded nothing by way of results.

"All taken," he told her. "Ain't got room for my birthday in any of 'em."

She frowned, sat on his shoulder and tried once more, to think of another kind of important day. "Then… what's the most important day in the whole wide world, Ken-chan? 'Cuz that should be your birthday!"

"Where the hell did you get that idea?"

"I just did!"

He sighed. Thought about it some. "Well… today's the most important day in the world then, I guess," he said after a moment.

She blinked. "Really? Why?"

He drank his beer. "We're alive, ain't we?"

She nodded.

"And we got food in our bellies?"

She nodded again.

"And we ain't sick? Or hurt?"

Her head continued to bob in agreement.

"And I got my beer and nobody we know died, and Yumichika didn't ask me to hold his bags for him when he went shoppin' earlier today. So then…" he finished logically, "today's pretty fuckin' important in the grand scheme of things, right?"

She beamed—it made perfect sense. "Ken-chan is so smart!"

She hopped off of his shoulder then, onto his desk so she could look up at him with a big, excited smile. "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks," he said, and kind of hoped this would get her to maybe leave him alone about the whole thing from here on out. He really just wanted to enjoy his goddamned beer.

Then she said, "I'm gonna go tell everyone!"

He sighed. That had been a little bit optimistic of him, maybe.

"It's the most important day in the world, right?" she declared happily, and zipped out of the room, letting everyone who would listen (and even those who wouldn't) know the crucial information as she passed by them, demanding lots of cakes and presents and alcohol later tonight.

He watched her go and then turned to glance briefly at the calendar on his desk. It read November nineteenth.

Not a bad date as far as dates went, he supposed—nothing pansy about it as far as he could tell. Though he might have lied a little bit just now when he'd told Yachiru that bullshit about today being the most important day in the whole wide world.

But to be fair, February twelfth was already taken.

**END**


	490. Necromancer

**490.**

**Title:** Necromancer  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly GrimmjowxIl Forte, Orihime  
**Word Count:** 827  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers through I guess, like… 245 to be safe? clueless Also, probably OOC, since I still suck at writing Arrankar. XD;;  
**Summary:** Grimmjow remembers. It's…unpleasant.  
**Dedication:** Requested by shinigamikender during this week's meme request post! Also for kinoscythe, because it's your fault I like this pairing in the first place:P  
**A/N: **The request was: "Little Reminders."

* * *

When he flexed his arm now it felt as if it had never been gone at all. There weren't any scars, not so much as a thin pink line on his skin to show him the place from which the limb had been severed from his body. It was a perfect reconstruction, as if that event—that night, that fight, that punishment—had never occurred. Like everything that had happened in that time frame just suddenly ceased to exist. 

Aizen said it was like turning back time. Making the things that happened go away in the blink of an eye.

Amazing really, that such a stupid looking girl could do something as blasphemous as that—she was frail and human and Grimmjow was certain he could snap her neck with very little effort at all if he wanted to. And yet… she had this power.

It made him want to kill her, because the more he thought about it, about turning back time and salvaging the things that were lost, it made him remember the past. Arrankar weren't meant to dwell on the past and yet the gift she had given him forced him to, to remember the past, when he'd had this arm and a lot of other things as well.

She was the witch who turned back time and made him remember the things he should have forgotten long ago.

So he went to see her with the image of _something_ in his head—memories of names and faces he thought he was beginning to forget but wasn't quite _there_ yet. She made him think about all the things he shouldn't have—those people, his arm, the possibilities.

And he thought that what he was feeling might be hope. It was a disgusting, wishful sensation that made his skin crawl.

The power to turn back time was a dangerous thing.

Because he remembered a voice now—teasing, sweet, venomous. Long hair, deadly eyes, a body made for killing just as much as fucking. All the things he should have _forgotten_. That he'd been well on his way to forgetting, like all Arrankar eventually did.

But then his arm had reappeared in the span of an instant and he could use it perfectly again, like nothing bad had ever happened to it at all.

She made him _remember._

Even worse… she made him _hope._

And so he went to see her, stormed into that stupid looking girl's room feeling angry and something else altogether, he wasn't sure what. Too many feelings he thought, too many for an Arrankar to have and this was all _wrong_. She was a crime against everything sacred and everything not. An existence steeped in horrors, one who brought nothing but suffering to all that she touched.

When he saw her he picked her up by the throat using the arm she'd returned to him, and didn't care that he wasn't supposed to hurt her, that Ulquiorra could come into the room at any minute and just as soon take the arm he was using away from him again.

Maybe that would be better.

"You," he snarled, and looked into her eyes, drank in the fear he saw there. It was refreshing enough that the rush of power made him sneer, almost made him forget what he'd come here for in the first place.

But then he saw the fingers wrapped around her throat, the ones that shouldn't have been there but _were_. And he remembered.

He dropped her.

Thought once more, of the images that had been haunting him lately, the ones of someone who might have been important if he'd known what having an important person felt like.

"Y-yes?" she croaked, and clutched her wounded neck with one hand, eyes still wide but trying to be brave even if he could smell the fear on her. It all just made him want to kill her even more, but he didn't.

Instead he eyed her for a long, wary moment. And then he surprised himself a little, when he lowered his voice and turned away so he didn't have to look at her. He asked, quietly, "You…can you revive the dead as well?"

And when he asked, the feeling of hope that suddenly engulfed every part of him made him want to puke.

But she only looked up at him, perhaps not having expected that question from him. When she answered—an eternity later-- her voice was very, very small. "I…I don't know."

He laughed when he heard that—loud and hysterical-- because it was the most perfect answer possible for such a stupid, blasphemous creature that he couldn't do anything else. "You… you really are a cruel bitch, you know that?" he howled, and could almost hear Forte laughing there alongside him.

She stared at him.

He wanted to kill her.

But all he could do was clench his fists and remember, standing there drowning in all that misplaced hope.

**END**


	491. Any Given Day

**491.**

**Title:** Any Given Day  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Ikkaku, Yumichika  
**Word Count:** 640  
**Warning/s: **er, spoilers for Ikkaku's fight with Edorad. I don't remember numbers.  
**Summary:** Sometimes death happens.  
**Dedication:** for ashesto  
**A/N: **The request was: "_when the sky falls"_.

* * *

People die every day.

That's usually the extent of how Kenpachi eulogizes any of the eleventh division members who happen to die in the line of duty when he's made to speak at their funerals, and everyone in the eleventh has come to accept that philosophy, has realized that the seemingly callous words are nothing more than an inevitable truth their captain refuses to try and shield them from. They know that any of them—all of them—could just go on and die on any given day.

It just happens sometimes.

There's nothing special about it, nothing particularly grand or horrible or terrifying or melancholy. It's just reality. People die-- every day, all the time. And when they do the world keeps going on after they're gone like nothing happened while those who'd died become worm food. The end.

It's what taichou always says. What they've always seen in the eleventh as a cold hard truth, with their own two eyes. Sometimes caused by their own two hands.

So Yumichika knows that this is how it's supposed to be. On any given day.

But even still—even if deep in his gut he _knows _this— he finds himself vaguely surprised at how painful it all is anyway.

He's seen a thousand men die in one normal night.

He's seen one man die in one normal breath.

He's had the blood of his men and his enemies on his hands, on his face, in his hair. He remembers only thinking that it was a pity and that he'd just have to wash it all out later, before the stains set.

Because people died sometimes.

On any given day.

But even still, somehow—_somehow—_right now it doesn't feel like any given day and the world will go on just the same as always come morning.

To Yumichika, it suddenly feels like the universe is changing. He knows that death is coming again—can feel it in the air-- and while that shouldn't bother him as much as it does (because it's unfair to think this way about one person and not the others), he can't help but feel that _this_ death, more so than any of the other ones he's already seen, is going to be—for some inexplicable reason— more horrible, more grand, more terrifying, more melancholy than any other death before it.

The world is tipping on its axis, time is freezing, the sky is falling.

Because when he watches Ikkaku fight—and thinks that Ikkaku might _die­—_it suddenly doesn't feel like any given day. It doesn't feel like people just dying and that's it. The end.

To Yumichika, it feels like the sky is falling.

And all he can do is stand by and remember that people die sometimes. That it's just like taichou always says-- death happens.

So he tries to bear it calmly when he thinks of that, tries to wash out everything grand and horrible and terrifying and melancholy he's feeling right now in light of that.

The sky is falling around him and Ikkaku might die.

Sometimes things like that just happen.

And while he knows he should be trying to remember that, that he should be doing his best to recall his captain's words and his division's philosophies and the fact that he's seen a thousand men die in one normal night before—and one man die in one normal breath before— for some reason, the only thing he can think of right now has nothing to do with any of those very important things. Instead, instead he suddenly remembers a legend he heard once a long time ago, about what humans do in the living world when they see that the sky is falling from above them.

Yumichika takes a very slow, very deep breath.

And he makes a wish.

**END**


	492. Not Like You

**492.**

**Title:** Not Like You  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly GrimmjowxIl Forte  
**Word Count:** 941  
**Warning/s: **Er, spoilers for the first invasion. I don't remember chapter numbers at this point. Also, OOC out the wazoo. But whatever, it was all I could think of, mkay?  
**Summary:** Grimmjow, Il Forte, and sweets in the human world. Sort of.  
**Dedication:** requested by chrnocrusader. Also for kinosycthe- Your Grimm will be missed!  
**A/N: **The request was "_chocolate bar_." This seriously took forever, LOL. I couldn't for the _life_ of me figure out how the hell they would get a chocolate bar in Hueco Mundo.

* * *

They'd all been thrumming with excitement as they'd drawn nearer and nearer to the human world, each blood thirsty, ready for action, hungry. Grimmjow remembered how D Roy had been grinning and whooping the entire way there, how Forte's smile had curled into a nasty, beautiful smirk on his face, the blond's eyes glimmering excitement with each passing second that brought them closer to their targets.

"It's probably gonna be boring," Grimmjow remembered telling him on seeing that expression, even though he had to admit that the idiot's smile had been kind of infectious.

"The real fun can come after," Forte chuckled breezily, and flipped his long hair back over his shoulder. "The human world seems like such an interesting place, ne?"

Grimmjow snorted. "Don't listen to Gin's tall tales like he's tellin' the truth there, blondie. Doesn't say much about your smarts."

Forte simply sniffed dismissively at that, and Grimmjow really didn't understand why the hell he let a weak little priss like Il talk back to him the way he did. It wasn't like him to let people get away with that kind of bullshit.

"The first thing I want to do after I kill my target is eat sweets," the blond Arrankar told Grimmjow then, like the Espada's derision regarding Gin's stories hadn't counted for squat. Maybe it hadn't, considering how seriously Forte was taking it all, the little shit.

"Sweets? What the hell kind of retarded goal is that?"

Forte shrugged one shoulder, looking a bit dreamy. "Aizen-sama never lets us have any…"

"Rots the teeth," Grimmjow agreed, because he'd heard that particular song and dance a thousand times before from their crazy leader. "So what?"

Forte shared a secret look with him then, like he knew something Grimmjow didn't. "Well… sometimes Gin-sama brings back things and lets me try them when Aizen-sama isn't looking. I think chocolate is my favorite thing about the human world so far."

"Choco-what? Sounds fuckin' retarded."

Forte twittered. "After you kill _your_ target we can go get some for you to try. I'll even wait for you."

Grimmjow glared. He really didn't know why he let the little fucker talk to him like that, because it really wasn't like him at all. "Shut the hell up. I'll be done taking care of my shit a million years before you've even started with yours."

Forte only laughed again, and wasn't particularly afraid of Grimmjow's ire (the dumbass). "Mmm, maybe we can try cake too. Gin-sama says it's delicious."

Grimmjow sighed. "Whatever. Just concentrate on killing the little bastards first, will ya? We can have all the goddamned chocolate and cake and whatever the fuck you want afterwards."

Forte smiled at him, sweetly evil. "No problem, boss."

And then he'd tossed a wink over his shoulder at the sixth Espada, right as their little group finally made it into the human world. It was mission start the moment the doorway closed behind them, and Grimmjow remembered not even turning to look back in Forte's general direction as they'd each locked onto their targets and split up, moving fast as lightning—exhilarated. He'd been so confident that he'd meet the pretty bastard again afterwards, when they went to go get cake and chocolate and all those other fruity retarded things Forte had been talking about, that he hadn't even bothered to say anything more to him.

Grimmjow had been so goddamned sure.

And then Forte fought. Lost.

Grimmjow remembered how he'd felt every singly fucking bit of it while the prissy idiot was dying.

He'd snarled out loud at the strange sensation of Forte suddenly not _existing_ anymore, the Espada making an angry fist and breaking apart the ice confining him before chasing after Ichigo and that snow-making bitch who'd popped out of nowhere at the last minute.

And it was in those moments right after Il Forte's spiritual energy had suddenly blinked out of existence that Grimmjow felt—fleetingly— that nothing was going the way it was supposed to.

Really, that kind of thinking wasn't like him at all.

Weird.

He'd tried not to dwell on it, to not pay it anymore heed than he ought to have, concentrating on chasing Ichigo and ripping the shinigami's pathetic little heart out instead.

The original goal.

It wasn't worth his time to think about the things that no longer lived.

He knew that. It was part of his most basic makeup as an Arrankar to forget about those who were killed, because the weak were ultimately useless and existed only to die by the hands of the strong. Lessons they'd learned all their lives living in Hueco Mundo.

And he knew that he knew those lessons too. He'd learned them well. Had even taught some of them to the others.

But even still—even _still—_ as he chased after Ichigo and Rukia, Grimmjow couldn't quite hold back the sudden, stray thought that now, now there was a goddamned fucking chocolate bar melting in his pocket and he knew shit all about what to do with it afterwards.

Pissed and confused, he wondered what it was about Forte that made him act like this, why that stupid fucking weak-ass bastard could get away with talking back to him, with making him go and get stupid fucking retarded chocolate bars and actually kind of look forward to sharing them later.

Everything about that wasn't right— and he knew it.

He _knew _it.

But even still, as he ran, Grimmjow couldn't help it when he wondered why Forte made the whole fucking world seem weird without him in it anymore.

Grimmjow knew it wasn't like him at all.

**END**


	493. A Test of the Emergency System

**493.**

**Title:** A Test of the Emergency System  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 995  
**Warning/s: **Stupidity, but no spoilers. XD;;  
**Summary:** Shuuhei might have forgotten something important.  
**Dedication:** requested by whymetoday, and combined with the request by westside, because I wanted to fit 11 requests into 10 drabbles and this was the only way I could see how. XD Also for pyrefly, because she encouraged me to try and get a Shuumi cult going. I AM TRYING?  
**A/N: **Request one (by whymetoday) was: "_early morning breakfast."_ Prompt supplied by westside was: "_was there a reason?"_

* * *

Good breakfast smells and his name being said sweetly woke him up this morning—earlier than usual, if his internal clock had anything to say about it—and blinking blearily, Hisagi Shuuhei's first conscious vision of the day was Yumichika bouncing into the room with an immaculately prepared breakfast tray full of the vice-captain's favorite foods.

Shuuhei stared.

"Good morning, Shuu!" Yumichika greeted, and set the tray down in front of him before pressing a kiss to his temple in a sweetly expectant kind of way.

Warning bells rang in Shuuhei's head. "Mornin'…wow," he murmured, and while his heart was suddenly going a hundred miles per minute he tried to play it cool.

Yumichika beamed and edged around the bed so he could crawl back in, nuzzling up comfortably against Shuuhei's chest. "I made your favorites."

"So I see," Shuuhei agreed, carefully. He let his arm slip around the fifth seat's shoulders and gave them a squeeze as he took in the spread before him. "Thanks."

"None needed," Yumi assured him, warmly.

And all Shuuhei could think was…_shit_.

He'd definitely forgotten something. Something important, because there was smoked salmon involved, and yes, those were homemade crepes slathered in the expensive strawberry preserves Yumichika usually only let him use once a week.

He swallowed.

Yumichika pouted at his hesitation. "What, you don't want it?"

"No, 'course I do… I was um, just admiring the craftsmanship and stuff. It's pretty."

The fifth seat sparkled. "Naturally."

"Naturally," Shuuhei agreed, and picked up his fork. He dug in then, eyeing Yumichika surreptitiously as he ate, looking for some sort of clue as to what exactly, it was he was forgetting this morning.

Not Yumichika's birthday. They'd celebrated that in style. Not _his_ birthday clearly, because Yumichika was obviously waiting for something from him in return. Not the first date anniversary, the first kiss anniversary, the first fight anniversary (he still wasn't sure why they celebrated that, exactly, besides the fact that Yumi got to gloat about it lots and Shuuhei got sex at the end of the night either way), and it definitely wasn't the first uh…_other things_ anniversary. No half anniversary he could think of either, though sometimes his math was off.

"Good?" Yumi asked after a moment, and Shuuhei gave a bit of a start when he heard his lover's voice again, the vice-captain nearly choking on his food. He quickly downed some fresh squeezed orange juice.

"It's delicious, babe," he assured Yumi, when he could. "Thanks."

"I told you already, silly. Today you don't need to say that to me!"

_Fuck._ Definitely something big.

Shuuhei gently squeezed Yumi closer against him, tucking the fifth seat's head under his chin so he could turn slightly leftward, towards the calendar hanging on the wall across the room. It was a bit hard to make out from the distance, but there was an unmistakable red circle around today's date.

And that was all. Nothing that would indicate _why_ exactly, it was circled. In red.

Incredibly unhelpful. He felt a nervous sweat beginning to gather on his brow, and after a moment or two of blind, white panic, Yumichika began to squirm in steadily increasing grip.

"Not so hard, you'll mess up my hair," the fifth seat complained with a little warning nip at Shuuhei's throat.

"Sorry," the vice-captain murmured automatically, and loosened his embrace.

"Is something the matter?" Yumi asked carefully, once he'd managed to pull back enough to breathe again. He straightened his hair then, returning it to its previously immaculate state with a few well practiced swipes of his fingers. "I thought maybe I put in too much cinnamon on accident… does it taste bad?"

"No, it's not that, babe," Shuuhei assured him. "Uh, it's just…" he turned to steal one last look at that unhelpful traitor of a calendar, in the hopes that maybe it would see the error of its ways and magically move to supply him with _any_ information on today's significance. Any at all.

No luck.

He sighed.

And then, after taking a slow, deliberate breath, he prepared to be honest (and subsequently, kicked out of bed for the rest of the week). "It's just… to be perfectly honest…" he began, guiltily, "I uh… I can't for the life of me remember what today _is_, Yumi."

Yumi blinked up at him.

Shuuhei cringed and waited for the storm.

And then, simply, "Today's Saturday, silly."

…wait, what?

Shuuhei wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "Wait, what?"

Yumichika smiled, and it was the kind of smile that told Shuuhei that he was really smirking about something.

"Today is Saturday," Yumichika repeated, eyes glimmering with amusement.

Shuuhei stared. "So…" he began, slowly, "it's not… any…"

And then, as Shuuhei apparently caught on, Yumi's expression turned dazzling. "Nope!"

A beat.

"Why would you do that to me?!" Shuuhei was absolutely horrified.

The fifth seat simply grinned and leaned up to peck Hisagi on the cheek, because he just couldn't _not _when he looked at that adorably indignant expression on his lover's face. "Just a test, darling."

Shuuhei couldn't find words.

Yumi laughed. "This has been a test of the emergency boyfriend date-recollection system," he recited by way of explanation. "And you passed with flying colors. Just like I knew you would."

Shuuhei blinked. "Wait a minute, so you're testing me to see if I remember which days _aren't_ supposed to be important now?!"

"Yup!" Yumichika responded, like it really was that easy and good job on Hisagi-san for _finally _catching on.

Shuuhei was just about to be severely indignant about that, but before he could, the fifth seat was pulling back and standing up again, stretching happily. "Now finish your breakfast and come help me outside. We're doing laundry today."

Yumichika padded out of the room without a backwards glance.

Shuuhei watched him go.

And he thought to himself that he would never _ever _figure Yumichika out.

Not in a billion years.

He sighed and finished his breakfast.

**END**


	494. Inflexible

**494.**

**Title:** Inflexible  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Kenpachi, Yachiru, Yumichika  
**Word Count:** 413  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the end of the SS arc, OOC and weirdness.  
**Summary:** Kenpachi teaches life lessons.  
**Dedication:** requested by yukisuzu.  
**A/N: **The request was: "_aluminum foil_." THIS WAS VERY HARD TOO. LOL Sorry yukisuzu! I tried. XD;;

* * *

"You gotta be like a rock," Kenpachi would grunt sometimes, when he was trying to teach Yachiru an important lesson.

"Rocks? How come?" Yachiru asked, and poked at a rock absently with her finger like it was going to reveal the secrets of the universe to her. When it didn't, she pouted up at Kenapchi and said, "seems kinda boring to me, Ken-chan!"

Zaraki grunted. "Listen dumbass. You gotta be solid. Strong. You punch a fuckin' rock and it hurts, right? Well, you gotta be like that. Someone tries to punch you, you fuckin' _hurt_ 'em back."

"Oh, okay!" Yachiru said, and got it.

"You gotta be like metal," Kenpachi would grunt instead sometimes, because metal was tough shit too, just like rocks.

"What, really?" Yachiru asked, and peered down at the jagged edges of Zaraki's zanpakutou. "Why like metal?"

"Gotta be sharp, gotta be dangerous," Kenpachi told her. "Don't bend to nobody else's will, don't run away. Be strong."

"Kay!" she said, like it was that simple.

And it was simple, in its own way. Yumichika however, also happened to think that rocks and metal and whatever other things Kenpachi chose to talk about on certain days (walls, mountains, the ground, etc., etc., etc.), while all ultimately strong things, were all rather inflexible as well.

He didn't say anything on the matter however, because so far Zaraki's theories had proved flawless, and whatever kept them alive was what kept them alive. Yumichika didn't like to quibble on superfluous things like that when there was no point to be made.

But then Kenpachi lost to Ichigo, and Yumichika was never one to turn down an opportunity.

The day after Aizen and company fled seireitei, Yumichika put a roll of aluminum foil on Kenpachi's desk.

"The hell is that?" Zaraki demanded, and eyed it distrustfully.

"Metal," Yumichika told him, and smirked.

Kenpachi held it up. It bent in his grasp, but didn't break.

He stared.

And then tossed it at his subordinate's head. "Very fuckin' funny, Yumichika."

The fifth seat twittered and dodged fluidly. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about, taichou."

The next day, when Yachiru was sitting next to him at his desk, Zaraki sighed and told her, "You gotta be flexible, kid." His wounds itched.

"What? Why?"

"'Cuz if you don't fuckin' learn from your own mistakes then you might as well be dead."

"Oh, okay!" she replied, like it was as simple as that.

It probably was.

**END**


	495. Cheap Imitation

**495.**

**Title:** Cheap Imitation  
**Rating:** PG-15 for…undertones. LOL  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ShuuheixYumichika  
**Word Count:** 722  
**Warning/s: **Um, possible suggestions of weird kinks and OOC and stupidity. But no spoilers, yay!  
**Summary:** Shuuhei is unreasonably jealous.  
**Dedication:** For Sherrymarie! WRITE THIS PAIRING ONE DAY OK? ALSO, this is kind of retarded. LOLZ  
**A/N: **Request was: "_jealousy_".

* * *

This had to be a new all time low, Shuuhei thought to himself, uncharitably.

He'd been jealous before of course, so _that _wasn't exactly new in the strictest sense of the word. He could recall sometimes being jealous of Yachiru, or of Kenpachi and Ikkaku and even Iba on occasion, when he thought about the shared histories they had with Yumichika that he had no part of. Could _never_ have a part of.

It was the worst when the lot of them would sit around telling stories and recounting adventures together and would suddenly break off mid-sentence into peels of uncontrollable laughter, leaving those who hadn't been there (Shuuhei) hanging, wondering what the second half of that statement was going to be, whether it really was as funny as all that or if it was just another one of those moments where you had to be there to get it.

So Shuuhei wasn't exactly a stranger to jealousy when it concerned his lover.

But that kind of jealousy—while uncomfortable— wasn't exactly abnormal, as far as Hisagi was concerned. It was really quite natural in the way that wishful thinking was natural, and he knew that the same could be said with the shared past he had with Kira and Renji and Hinamori, that there were things about his life before Yumichika that Yumichika could understand but would never be able to completely fathom without having been there to witness the events himself.

That was the kind of jealousy he could live with.

But this… this wasn't like that at all. He suspected that there was definitely something wrong with him, on a fundamental level. Yumichika had done something to him, and he was reacting like _this_ now, which was completely undignified and really rather stupid, when he thought about it. "Would you cut that out, Yumi?" he snapped when he couldn't take it anymore, and didn't mean to take that tone with the fifth seat but at the same time, sort of did anyway.

Yumi snickered. "I can't help it!" the pretty shinigami told him sweetly, and wrapped his arms around his new companion's neck, nuzzling—_nuzzling_!—against the newcomer happily. "I think I'm in love."

Shuuhei glared… at himself.

Sort of.

His gigai blinked mechanically back at him. "How shall I serve you?" the modified soul inside the gigai asked dutifully, after a moment of having its master stare at it and not indicate anything by way of orders.

Possibly the _worst_ thing it could have said given the circumstances, Shuuhei thought, gritting his teeth.

Yumi on the other hand, simply giggled (predictably) at the double entendre. "Service! Oh I like the sound of that. Definitely some potential there, I think. Don't you agree, Shuu?"

He twitched, and in fact, did not agree at all. "That's not even funny, Yumi. Cut it out."

Yumichika ignored him. "Ne, Shyuun," he purred at the gigai, and hopped up happily into its arms. "Your first order is to take me to bed!" he announced, and shared a look with Shuuhei that the vice-captain couldn't decipher as completely facetious or horribly serious either way. He hated that about Yumi, sometimes.

The konpact—who had apparently just been _named_ by the fifth seat—nodded obediently at the order. "As you wish."

Shuuhei bit the inside of his cheek and slowly counted backwards from ten as he watched his gigai carry his twittering lover back towards the bedroom (he only held back because he was sure there were some deeply scarring psychological consequences involved with maliciously killing your own copy out of _jealousy_).

When he reached one a few minutes later, he took a deep breath and comforted himself with the knowledge that tomorrow, tomorrow he could take the goddamned thing back to the twelfth and ask Akon to make it…uglier. Or something.

In the meantime he thought that maybe he could get away with slightly fewer psychological consequences by maliciously pummeling his gigai unconscious out of jealousy instead of killing it outright.

Yumi might complain about unnecessary acts of violence on such a lovely countenance, but Shuuhei knew that his lover could be quelled by the fact that the real thing gave far better service than any cheap imitations ever could.

Grinning at the thought, he cracked his knuckles and followed them into the bedroom.

**END**


	496. Convictions

**496.**

**Title:** Convictions  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **Komamura, Byakuya  
**Word Count:** 996  
**Warning/s: **Spoilers for the SS arc.  
**Summary:** Komamura's memories are suspect.  
**Dedication:** for kenmuscle.  
**A/N: **The request was: "_bitter work_."

* * *

Komamura wasn't sure which was more painful—looking up at Tousen as the other man betrayed him, or having to sit here and endure _this,_ to recall every moment of friendship and camaraderie between the two of them in an effort to try and determine whether it had all been a lie, that everything from the very beginning had merely been in a step forward in the plot to overthrow seireitei.

Komamura understood that it had to be done, that they had to determine what sort of groundwork had been laid to ascertain whether or not Aizen and his cohorts had set anything else up before their departure that could be used against Soul Society in the upcoming war. It had to be done.

But even still, the large captain felt that this was unendurable.

Kuchiki Byakuya sat across from him as appointed head of the specially created investigation team on the matter, and radiated coolness. "And that was the extent of your first meeting, correct?" he asked, calmly.

"Yes," Komamura murmured, and though he disliked it, felt his own memories conforming—warping— to this new image of Tousen the betrayer, parts of his mind trying to look back and determine some sort of sign from early on that _must _have been there, one that would tell him that all of this—his friendship and love of Tousen— had been created solely for that one sinister purpose Aizen had spoke of. Every word, every moment, every touch or smile or shared joy and grief they'd experienced together suddenly became suspect in Sajin's mind though he did not wish for it. Though he wished that he had stronger convictions than that.

That first time Tousen ran into him—could it have been planned? Kaname had always maneuvered himself flawlessly well despite his handicap, except for perhaps, that one moment, when he had accidentally crashed into the large fox captain many years ago.

It may have not been an accident then, but a way to further the designs of Aizen.

Suspect. It was all suspect, and Komamura hated himself for thinking like he was, for having so little faith.

"Do you suspect, upon reflection, that this was the first step in setting up Tousen's position in the gotei-13? By befriending you—a warrior with a flawless record of loyalty and obedience to Yamamoto-soutaichou—it might have secured his own reputation as a character beyond suspicion."

Komamura felt his brow knit as Kuchiki voiced the very thoughts plaguing him. He trained his gaze on the ground between them and tried to think, to be rational despite how painful every moment was. "I… don't know. It's possible, I suppose."

Kuchiki made a note of it.

"Are there any other instances that you can recall that might be suspect?"

No. None of them. All of them. Every one of them.

Komamura sighed. "Not with any guarantee."

Kuchiki wrote that down, and Komamura knew that he was suspect too, that anyone who had had a close relationship with any of the three traitors would be carefully watched to make sure they harbored no lingering loyalties to those who had become enemies. It was why the ninth, third, and fifth division members who had been left behind were off of active duty, why Komamura's own division was on limited activity.

Soul Society was on guard.

"Do you believe he befriended you with the intent of recruiting you to their cause?"

Komamura closed his eyes and sighed. "No. I don't think so. I don't know."

Byakuya eyed him. "Surely you can't believe his intentions towards you were completely without pretense."

Something about that assumption angered him, and he felt his hands fisting at his sides. "No, I don't believe that his actions were completely without pretense." And then he looked up, meeting those cool eyes with conviction surprising to even himself. "But I refuse to believe that all I knew of him was false."

Byakuya looked at him for a moment.

And then put away his notebook. "Off the record," the sixth division captain began, voice still cool despite an unreadable look in his eye that Komamura had never before seen from the seemingly stone-faced young nobleman. "If you were to face Tousen Kaname now, would you kill him?"

Komamura took a deep, shuddering breath. And after a very long while, answered "No."

Even if the rest of him could sit here and unwillingly betray his own convictions, he would not compromise that one. It would undoubtedly secure his place as a suspect in this mess—as one of those traps that Aizen and company must have laid long before their departure— but even knowing that, Komamura could not find it in himself to imagine killing someone who had been so dear to him. The rest of seireitei could stamp him an accomplice because of that if it wished, but it was one thing in a heart now full of uncertainties that he knew he could stand behind without faltering.

At his answer, Byakuya studied him for a long moment. And then stood. "Please return to full active duty as of this afternoon, Komamura-taichou."

The large fox captain stared. He didn't understand, to be honest. "Kuchiki-taichou… what…"

"Betrayal—any kind of betrayal— is the mark of someone who doesn't believe in justice," Byakuya told him, quietly bowing to his senior officer before moving to the door. He paused for a moment in the portal however, and looked briefly back over his shoulder at the clearly mourning seventh division leader. "And for what it's worth, Komamura-taichou, I also feel that forgiveness is the mark of someone who does."

A moment of silence.

"Finish mourning quickly," Byakuya told him then, and his eyes shone with something vaguely like regret. "Then decide what you will do if—or when— you are _ordered_ to kill him. I know from experience that the answer to that won't come to you as easily as your last."

Komamura didn't doubt it.

**END**


	497. If I Were You

**497.**

**Title:** If I Were You  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **IsshinxRyuuken  
**Word Count:** 548  
**Warning/s: **Stupidity and OOC, and RAGE.  
**Summary:** Isshin asks a couple of hard hitting questions. Ryuuken hits hard.  
**Dedication:** requested by imparfait. Also for swinku, because I LOVE YOU LOTS and know that if you had had the time to request you probably would have requested this pairing. So here it is for you anyway, even if it is retarded. XD  
**A/N: **The request was: "_In each other's shoes_." This is retarded but I gave up after 3 hours of having it JUST NOT WORK AT ALL. So… yeah. LOL

* * *

"If I were a Quincy, what would my bow's name be?" Isshin wondered out loud one night, when they were both supposed to be _asleep_.

It prompted Ryuuken to roll over and shove his head under his pillow in an effort to ignore the other man. "Shut up and go to sleep."

"Do the Quincy even get to name them? Or is it the same as zanpakutou and they already come pre-named for you?"

Ryuuken groaned.

"If I was a Quincy and got to name my bow, it would be Ribbon! Get it? Ribbon-chan the bow!"

Ryuuken grabbed a fistful of pillow and smacked Isshin over the face with it.

He was a little bit horrified when he did too, because it seemed like such an _immature_ thing to do.

To be fair, it was three am and he had to be work in five hours.

Isshin only chuckled and kept talking, even though there was a pillow on top of his face now, and probably a red mark from where it had slammed into his nose. "But if it was a guy bow I guess Ribbon-chan would be kind of an embarrassing name. If it was a guy bow I'd probably name it Rain!" He paused, waiting for Ryuuken to laugh at his cleverness.

"Don't think that just because I'm a doctor I won't stoop to asphyxiating you where you lay, Kurosaki."

"Get it? Rain-bow!" The clue delivered, Isshin waited _again,_ for Ryuuken to laugh.

"_Where you lay_."

Silence.

_Finally_, Ryuuken thought, and took his pillow back.

Silence for thirty seconds.

And then, "Ne, Ryuu-chan, if you were a shinigami…"

Ryuuken snarled and rolled on top of the other man, pillow in hand.

And Isshin actually stopped talking. For like, two seconds-- before he opened his mouth to say, "Wow, again? Heh, I knew Ryuu-chan really liked shinigami deep down, but I never tho…mmmpph!!!"

Ryuuken held the pillow over the other doctor's face and leaned his weight into it for about a minute before deciding that his point had to have been proven, even to a moron like Isshin. "WORK AT EIGHT, KUROSAKI," he growled, glaring down at the motor-mouthed idiot of a shinigami underneath him.

When Ryuuken finally rolled off of the other man and yanked his pillow back, Isshin gasped in a couple of large mouthfuls of air, but otherwise remained quiet.

Satisfied with that—it led the Quincy to believe that even the biggest morons like Isshin could _get the point_ after a certain amount of time— Ryuuken burrowed back under his pillows and tried to get _some_ sleep so that he didn't kill anyone tomorrow on the operating table.

Or try to finish the killing he'd attempted tonight.

But then, just before he was about to drop off, "Ne, Ryuu-chan…if you were a shinigami what division would you be in?" Isshin asked, like nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened just now.

Maybe it hadn't, considering. Ryuuken could only imagine that lots of people tried to smother Isshin with a pillow on a regular basis.

So this time, Ryuuken tried choking him.

On that, Isshin only assumed that meant that the eleventh division was Ryuuken's answer.

As if to confirm it, Ryuuken slammed Isshin's head into the headboard once or twice.

**END**


	498. Down and Dirty

**498.**

**Title:** Down and Dirty  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **RenjixByakuya  
**Word Count:** 957  
**Warning/s: **OOC! TONS OF OOC!  
**Summary:** Sometimes dirty can be fun.  
**Dedication:** requested by ryzna  
**A/N: **The request was: "_vacation."_

* * *

"This is unclean," Byakuya stated, like that was all it was going to take before Renji would realize that it was indeed, unclean, and take back his attempts at this ridiculous endeavor altogether.

However, it seemed that the sixth division captain's hopes were not to be answered.

"That gives it _character_," Renji told the shorter man decisively, grinning stupidly while he tried to pierce a squirming worm on a fishing hook with his fingers.

Byakuya shuddered internally as he watched the redhead, how he had his sleeves and pants rolled up and slightly muddy, his feet dipping into the clear blue waters of the otherwise still lake. _Dirt_ was getting under his fingernails and the worm looked none too happy about being hooked.

"Got it!" Renji declared triumphantly after a moment, before he turned to the other man and showed him the pierced worm like it was something of great accomplishment that needed to be witnessed and properly lauded. "Okay, now you try."

Byakuya stared at him and did not move.

Renji sighed. "This isn't gonna be a fun vacation unless you at least try this stuff out," he said, and gestured to the pristine wilderness around them, the lake teeming with fish (but not really) and the peaceful quiet of trees and dirt and not much else. "Sometimes ya just gotta get dirty, taichou!" he urged, like that meant something.

Byakuya sniffed. "I don't enjoy doing dirty things, Renji."

The redhead grinned at that, because it was clearly too easy a piece of bait to give up. "No?"

Byakuya knew what that grin meant, but he refused to stoop to such filthy double entendres when Renji very well knew what he'd meant already. "No."

Renji's grin widened, if possible, and for the moment, he seemed to forget the fishing pole and the hook in lieu of lewder things. "Aw c'mon, dirty things can be fun, taichou!"

Byakuya scoffed, unimpressed by the connection. "I don't consider sex with you dirty in the least so please stop speaking to me like some drunken ruffian in a bar, Renji."

Renji was too used to the older man's snooty little speeches to be much affected by them anymore, unfortunately, and all he did was smirk a little and tug Byakuya into his lap like said snooty little speech was some sort of indirect invitation—which it was _not_, by the way.

Byakuya's eyes widened marginally at the thought that Renji's dirty hands were _touching him now_, but he managed to keep most of his dignity intact. "We are _not_ doing this here,"he declared, sternly.

"Doing what? Who said I was talkin' about _that _anyway?"

The older shinigami ignored him. "Your hands are _filthy_," he felt the need to point out. "And it wouldn't be fun at all."

Renji paused to examine his fingers. "Yeah, they kinda are a little dirty," he admitted, before pausing as a thought hit him. He snickered.

Byakuya blinked. And then, when he felt Renji's arms tighten around him, realized exactly what was going on. "No. Don't you _dare_ I will have you suspended and…"

Renji whooped and without further ado, dumped them both into the lake.

Byakuya didn't get to finish his threat with the "flogged" he'd planned on saying so much as an indignant little "eeeeek!!" that might have been—but he wasn't going to admit it—a squeal when they hit the freezing water head on.

Renji laughed out loud at him when he heard that, the redhead flat on his ass and up to his waist in shallow lake water.

Byakuya stared at his vice-captain, his own hair wet and limp and half in his eyes as he tried his best to glare _death_ at Abarai through his sodden bangs.

But Renji only took one look at him and collapsed into chortles again, before pulling his hair out of its ties and shaking himself off like a wet dog. "This is me gettin' clean, taichou. How d'ya like that?"

Byakuya kicked water into his insolent, smirking face. "Singularly unfunny."

"Aw, lighten up!" Renji urged, and tugged the soaked sixth division captain back against him while they splashed indignantly around in the water like fools. "Vacations are supposed to be fun."

"I'm wet. And cold. And possibly filthy."

Renji's chuckled warmly and touched his nose to his captain's cold, wet cheek. "See? Ya shoulda just hooked the worm in the first place. Then this whole mess could have been avoided."

Byakuya was clearly unimpressed with his logic. "As I said. I am wet. And cold. And filthy. Fix it."

Renji's expression turned smarmy at that, because his mind was probably going off and finding those invitations that hadn't really been there in the first place all over again. "Well, taichou," he began, voice low, "I guess I better get ya out of those wet clothes and warm ya up quick huh? Since it was an order'n all that." His eyes glimmered. "But I ain't gonna lie to you, my methods might be a little dirtier'n you like."

Byakuya rolled his eyes at that, but figured it would be pointless to complain when he felt the collar of his robe being pushed off of his shoulders despite everything. "But like I said," Renji assured him, pressing a warm kiss to his collarbone, "sometimes dirty things can be fun."

Byakuya made a mental note to have his insolent vice-captain (if not suspended) then at least flogged when they got back to the court.

In the meantime, he supposed it was in his best interested to get warm and dry as quickly as possible so as to avoid sickness.

For now, he'd just have to endure the dirty part, as it really couldn't be helped.

**END**


	499. Super Manly

**499.**

**Title:** Super Manly  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **GanjyuxHanatarou, Kuukaku  
**Word Count:** 837  
**Warning/s: **Stupidity, OOC, and pretty much no coherence whatsoever. YAY!  
**Summary:** Ganjyu schools Hanatarou in the ways of manliness. Kuukaku just schools them.  
**Dedication:** requested by esotaria!  
**A/N: **The prompt was: "_how to be a man."_ LOL Idea stemmed from the fact that Ganjyu's voice actor is also Aoki in Hajime no Ippo. XD

* * *

She stepped outside just in time to see Ganjyu try and prop Hanatarou's fists up in front of his face for him, in what she could only assume was some sort of skewed boxing lesson.

She stared.

"Alright, so then you gotta stay on your toes, okay? Your _toes_."

"O-okay!"

"Well not that much, dumbass, you're gonna fall over like that. It ain't ballet."

Hanatarou did indeed, tip over. Ganjyu caught him though, and righted him by the collar of his shirt in a gruffly gentle way.

"You're fuckin' hopeless, you know that?"

Hanatarou laughed, sheepishly. "I guess I've never known how to fight with my fists."

"It's why you're always gettin' picked on," Ganjyu scoffed, and spat somewhere in the dirt behind them to emphasize his point. "Even if you're all wimpy lookin' you gotta, you know, assert yourself. Let 'em know you're a man. I ain't gonna be around to defend you all the time."

Hanatarou coughed, and Kuukaku was pretty sure the brat was only indulging her idiot brother because he cared about the buffoon's ego or something. Either way, she was pretty sure the runt must have had the patience of a goddamned saint to put up with it like that, considering how dumb Ganjyu's advice was most of the time and the fact that Kuukaku could bully the hell out of him in her sleep if she wanted to. That whole "be a man" line of thinking and all that walk and talk like a tough-guy crap was absolute bullshit as far as she was concerned.

"Right. So um…toes," the fourth division shinigami repeated, and raised his fists gamely again. "And…"

"Stay on guard," Ganjyu repeated for him.

"Right."

Kuukaku sighed. "The hell are you two doin'?" she demanded after she couldn't stand to watch any more.

Ganjyu gave a start. "Neesan! Er…we were just… I was just…"

"Ganjyu-san was teaching me how to defend myself," Hanatarou supplied helpfully, and reached out to pat Ganjyu's arm while he flailed in those general two seconds of terror that were automatically conditioned to activate whenever his older sister happened to sneak up on him.

"Yeah, I'm sure it's a big help," Kuukaku snorted.

Ganjyu looked wounded at her tone. "I just don't want him to get picked on, 's all," he grumbled, and scuffed his feet in the dirt a bit.

"It's very helpful," Hanatarou assured her. "Er, and very manly."

Kuukaku rolled her eyes and wondered if Ganjyu knew that he was probably the last person who ought to teach Yamada about how to not be bullied, all things considered. "Right. Ganjyu, get your useless ass into gear and get the goddamned laundry started, wouldja?"

"Er, right away, neesan." Pause. Cough. "We'll finish up later," Ganjyu told Hanatarou in his deeper "sensei" voice, before marching off to do his appointed task like he wasn't just a victim to everything he'd been trying to teach Hanatarou to avoid.

Hanatarou and Kuukaku watched him go.

"My brother is dumb as rocks, ain't he?" the elder Shiba started after a moment; hand on her hip as they watched Ganjyu toddle off towards the backyard. "He really think you're completely helpless just 'cuz you're like, two feet tall?"

Hanatarou shuffled awkwardly at her uncharitable assessment. "Um… well, just because seated fourth division officers are all able to use their reiatsu to stop an opponent's blood circulation to any and all of his or her major organs doesn't mean that we um, like to _use_ it…" he started lamely, in Ganjyu's defense.

Kuukaku scoffed. "Right. Like rocks." Pause. "Maybe dumber."

Hanatarou sighed.

Kuukaku grinned and eyed him knowingly. "But you like him anyway."

The little shinigami blushed. "Well… that is, I suppose I…" He blinked and rubbed at the back of his neck, sheepish. "I guess so."

Kuukaku chortled to herself at that. "That probably just make you even _dumber'n_ rocks, Yamada." She snickered and slapped him heartily on the backside. "Welcome to the family then, I guess. Ya fit in great with both of my moronic brothers and all the moronic men in the Shiba family before 'em."

He nearly fell over when she hit him, but managed to just stagger instead of actually tumbling at her power. "Er… Th-thank you, Kuukaku-san?"

She winked, and then smiled in the sort of way that made him feel like maybe she was going to rip out his heart and eat it for breakfast. Either that or ruffle his hair. "Oi…"

"H-hai?"

"Since you're officially part of the clan now, why don'tcha go'n help stones-for-brains with the laundry? Then you two can clean out the gutters when you're done."

"Er, right! Sure!" He quickly jogged off after Ganjyu.

Kuukaku laughed and watched him go.

Men—be they tough guys or big talkers or little runts with surreptitiously deadly hands— were really just too goddamned easy, no matter _who_ they tried to be. She almost felt guilty for being able to handle them the way she did.

Almost.

But not really.

**END**


	500. Babysat

**500.**

**Title:** Babysat  
**Rating:** PG  
**Pairing/Character/s: **lightly IsshinxRyuuken, Karin, Yuzu, Ichigo  
**Word Count:** 857  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary:** Probably could only happen in the future or something- Isshin and Ryuuken sort of go on a date. A little.  
**Dedication:** requested by kshi- I LOVE YOU.  
**A/N: **The request was: "_babysitting."_

* * *

Maybe he'd just been out of the game for a really long time now. It had been a while, after all, and he wasn't so vain that he couldn't admit that he was of an older generation. That being said, when he remembered that back when he was young, the dates that usually came to mind often included a nice dinner and maybe a movie, a walk in the park and ice cream, or a festival or even just coffee and good conversation well into the night.

Along those lines, times had either changed drastically since he'd last ventured out into the social world, or this was decidedly not a date despite Kurosaki's insistences that it _was_.

Ryuuken didn't think the world had had enough time to lap him completely in regards to these date-related sensibilities, so rationally then, he supposed this could only be not-a-date.

Which made sense, given that thus far, it all felt decidedly like… babysitting.

The fact that they were on a playground probably helped.

"Ne, Ryuu-chan, look at how high I'm going!"

"Very high," Ryuuken agreed drolly, and flipped to the next page in his medical journal monthly without looking up.

"You didn't look at all!!" Isshin protested. "I'm going really high!"

"How very nice for you."

Ryuuken could practically _hear_ Kurosaki pout as the other doctor's furious pumping slowed to a halt, Isshin dragging his feet on the sand beneath him to stop his back and forth motions. "Ne…how come you don't wanna play?"

"I don't like swings," Ryuuken told him, and continued to read as the other man idled pathetically in his seat.

Isshin was aghast. "YOU DON'T LIKE SWINGS?!"

And now all of Japan knew it too. Ryuuken sighed. "No, I don't."

Isshin looked absolutely boggled. "But, but the _swoosh_! How can you not like the _swoosh_?"

Ryuuken flipped another page. "No particular reason."

"It doesn't make sense!" Isshin insisted.

"It makes plenty of sense. When you think about it."

Isshin paused to think about it.

And then was hit by a brilliant idea somewhere halfway through thinking (because he really couldn't think more than 10 seconds on any one thing). Or rather, it was something _he_ deemed brilliant anyway, which only made Ryuuken cringe physically when he recognized the inspired (manic) expression on his companion's face.

"RYUU-CHAN CLEARLY YOU HAVE TO COME SWING WITH ME NOW. YOU CAN SIT IN MY LAP OKAY? THAT WILL MAKE IT FUN FOR SURE." Thumbs up.

Some nearby mothers gasped at the implications and quickly clutched their children against them, making an outraged beeline towards the park exit while glaring at the old pervert on the swing who was making inappropriate passes at other men in the middle of the afternoon.

Ryuuken's eyes simply narrowed. "No."

Mibble. "BUT RYUU!!!"

"NO. STOP THAT."

Isshin looked on the verge of panic. "YUZU, KARIN!" he sobbed, somehow managing to become even _louder_ now as he called on his daughters for assistance. "TELL RYUUKEN-OKAASAN TO COME PLAY WITH ME!!!"

From beside Ryuuken on the bench, Karin sighed and Yuzu looked torn between whether to obey or to leave Ryuuken-okaasan well enough alone because she knew he liked his reading time.

"Pretend you don't know him," Karin advised her sister after a moment.

"A sound plan," Ryuuken agreed, and marked his magazine with a metal clip he kept handy before closing it and tucking it under the arm. "Shall we go get some ice cream then?"

Yuzu immediately brightened at the prospect. "That sounds like fun!!"

The three of them stood.

Isshin sulked from the swing set. "BUT IT'S THE KUROSAKI FAMILY LEGENDARY PLAYGROUND DAY OF FUN! YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE IN THE MIDDLE OF IT!!!" Distraught, he whirled around to look behind him. "ICHIGO TELL THEM THEY CAN'T LEAVE."

Ichigo stared at him. "Does this mean I don't have to push you anymore?"

"You're free to come along as well, if you'd like ice cream," Ryuuken told the teen.

Ichigo stuck his hands in his pockets and slouched after the Quincy and his sisters. "Sweet."

Behind them, Isshin wailed. "NOBODY LOVES ME!!!!!!"

"If you shut up I'll buy you ice cream too," Ryuuken offered after a moment, and adjusted his glasses in a long-suffering sort of way.

Isshin immediately brightened. "What, really?!"

"Yes, really. Now be quiet."

Isshin grinned and hopped off of his swing, bounding happily after the group and completely forgetting his previous distress at the prospect of sweet treats.

He twitched as they entered the ice cream shop a few minutes later and Isshin immediately ran up to press his face against the glass display, babbling excitedly to the clerk about the various flavors he'd like to try before he made his mind up (32 in all). Ryuuken and the three Kurosaki children looked drolly on.

The Quincy paid for the ice cream after Karin had kicked Isshin in the shin and ordered for him when he wouldn't hurry up and make up his _mind_.

Ryuuken comforted himself with knowledge that only one of his four charges for the afternoon _actually_ needed to be babysat.

It could have been worse, after all.

Somehow.

**END**


End file.
